


Romance Drabbles

by stephanericher



Series: Drabbles [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-28 04:18:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 75,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of romantic Kuroko no Basuke drabbles written in 2013, originally posted on tumblr. Various characters, pairings, ratings, genres and themes</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

1\. Burning (Hayama/Nakatani, 387 wds, R)

Nakatani watches the court, watches his team, tries to figure out a strategy—but his eyes are drawn to one player in particular like moths to a burning lamp. Hayama Kotarou and his kerosene eyes, the less-than-half-crazed mouth, the way his body is moving with a wicked grace—they should really turn the heat down in this building. Nakatani feels the sweat trickle down his forehead and his temples and the base of his hair, falling down his neck and into the crevasses in his ear. He's losing focus, losing sight of the game, eyes caught up in Hayama's dribble—Nakatani feels like he might faint.

His throat is dry; he needs water, feebly signaling for one of the bench players to get him a bottle and distractedly handing the kid the clipboard because he can't open the bottle with one hand. He drains it, chugging it in one gulp, and those eyes have found his and almost leer at him from the other side of the court, and now they do not leave his even as Hayama moves. He does not need to look at targets to shoot or pass or steal or know when the ball is coming to him.

After the game, Hayama corners him. He's alone; he still has that flaming honey look and his mouth is burning, open sweet and spicy and hot on Nakatani's lips and flesh. Nakatani half-wonders if he's leaving cauterized wounds as Hayama's mouth moves down his jaw and neck. Hayama reaches under his shirt and claws at his hips and Nakatani can't really do anything. Hayama doesn't want him to do anything, because Hayama is wildfire and Nakatani is a grove of trees, rooted to the spot, forced to crumble under Hayama's slick, relentless heat. Hayama flips him over and fucks him against the brick wall, rough edges scraping against Nakatani's chin and neck as he winces and pulls his head back, fingertips scrabbling for some indent to hold onto and finding nothing. Someone could find them here, say something, see them—but it doesn't happen.

Nakatani goes home alone on the train that night. A hand rubs absentmindedly against his throat, feeling the newly-formed scabs, the only reminder, the only proof that anything had happened at all. The skin is hot where he touches it.

* * *

2\. Precious (Kiyoshi/Furihata, 205 wds, PG)

The way he smiles softly, cautiously, a flickering expression—that is the way Furihata normally smiles, always indecisive, always unsure of whether he should be smiling or not and worrying about the next bad thing that's going to come after him. He lets Kiyoshi kiss him but when they part the smiling is always awkward and afraid of when Kiyoshi is going to stop wanting to kiss him, and Kiyoshi can't help but hate himself just a little bit (because if he's really what Furihata wants and needs, then Furihata won't have to ever worry that Kiyoshi will stop loving him; the thought never need cross his mind).

Sometimes, though, Furihata bares everything, all that is in his trembling soul, blinks up at Kiyoshi and lives in the moments and gives him a smile that's full and pure and wanton all at once, and it's the most precious thing to Kiyoshi; he will die to protect that smile's existence, will do anything just to know that it will even once more grace Furihata's lovely face (because when Furihata worries, even if it's about something irrational or that others would consider trivial, Kiyoshi worries, too; he shares that burden to ease it from Furihata's aching shoulders).

* * *

3\. Desecrate (Kagami/Himuro, 568 wds, hard R)

The rings chained around your necks are choking both of you, pulling you so far down, the weight of bonds long since dissolved and reformed over and over and over again until the original bonds might not have been formed in the first place were it not for the heavy reminder that you were once—no, are—brothers, that brothers do not do this, that you are desecrating the most sacred of bonds, the familial ties of a chosen sort—it would be easy to say that you do not care. You can pretend all you want under light kisses and touches and feelings and fantasies that remain in your imagination. You can dress it in pretty wrapping and call it just a complex, some latent thing disguising itself as lust. But it's hard to say that you just really admire your brother a lot, that you're proud of him and that you cherish him in a certain way and only that certain way—it's awfully hard to say that with a straight face when you're in your brother's bed with his cock in your mouth and you're rock-hard, too, and his toned thighs are beneath your fingers and his voice, a voice that you cannot wholly convince yourself is someone other than his (you've tried, to see if it would make your head accept this for what it is) is making clear sounds of pleasure.

This is something more, something raw and ugly and all-consuming and mind-numbingly amazing at the same time, like freezer burn maybe. It's hot and cold and neither and both, all at once and it's indescribable. Your fingers are slipping on his legs from the sweat and you can feel the way he's throbbing against the roof of your mouth and his hands are on your face and that sensitive spot where your neck meets your jaw and your tongue is almost lolling but you have to keep it moving somewhat-steadily. This is not pure or lovely, but these bonds are fire-forged and these bonds will last longer than the delicate bonds you adopted so young, that you perhaps were not ready for (that you would never be ready for), the relationship to which you gave a false name because brotherhood was the highest bond you knew back in those days.

He rocks his hips, shaky and jerky as he comes into your mouth and you swallow and let your mouth open and his cock slip out as you grind your hips against his leg and whine without realizing that your throat wants anything at all. His palms are pressed against your face, still, fingers half-flexed away from you but knuckles clenched against themselves, and his back is arched and his knee is at the perfect angle. His hair, usually so perfect at staying in place, is messy, you realize as you sit up and look at his face and the sweat dripping from his forehead. He is gorgeous, and he is yours. You cup his face in your hand and he opens his eyes, peers out through hazy lashes and half-lids and he smiles, open and loving, and it's just like you were ten and eleven only not. It's not the same; it will never be the same.

You smile back broadly and kiss him full-on, without wondering how or why the weight dragging down your neck seems to have lessened somehow.

* * *

4\. June (Imayoshi/Susa, 316 wds, PG)

Susa flicks the lighter in time with the crickets chirping, letting the flame flicker and dance like a spinning drunk kid who's never had alcohol before and has no concept whatsoever of limits, finally falling. He keeps staring at the ghost of a ghost of overheated air, the silver tip of the lighter barely shining from the weak light sources from the outside. Shouichi's hand covers his, taps it. Susa flicks; Shouichi lights a cigarette. The faint smell of tobacco and cherries fills the air.

The crickets drone. Susa looks at the sky, stars hiding behind a thin sheen of clouds, although the indigo sky does show itself in patches. He squints at a light—that's moving and blinking; it's an airplane. Shouichi stubs the cigarette out and lies with his head in Susa's lap. He's like a cat sometimes, just doing whatever he wants—but cats are pretty dumb and Shouichi's definitely not stupid. He's illogical and can get passive-aggressive, but he's not stupid. Susa runs his fingers through Shouichi's wild black hair, combing out a multitude of tangles. Shouichi winces.

"You're hurting me," he says, sticking out his lower lip. The way he acts like an innocent, sensitive child sometimes is more than a quirk. Susa will never let him know how endearing it is (for it is just as endearing as it is annoying) so he rolls his eyes and sighs and stops moving his hand.

Shouichi frowns and opens his eyes a fraction. "I didn't tell you to stop."

Susa smiles. "Of course you didn't."

His hand begins to move again through Shouichi's hair, and Shouichi's eyes close again and he smirks. Of course he already knows how adorable he is; it's written in his smug expression.

Still, his hair is quite the mess of knots. "Do you even use any conditioner?"

Shouichi just laughs. The sound is dissonant against the crickets.

* * *

5\. Graceful (Imayoshi/Aomine, 224 wds, R)

The way Aomine moves on the court is graceful and natural, "formless" they call it, but Imayoshi knows better. Arms folded across the name of the school that weighs heavy and the number four that weighs heavier across his slight frame, he watches Aomine tirelessly and endlessly play. He's got such good form that it only seems formless, wrapping around on itself and becoming the opposite. He is truly amazing, gracefully relentless in his purest form.

In bed, he's anything but graceful, clunking his knee against the wall and wincing, yelling sharply, breath hard and erratic and wild in a whole different way. His arms shove roughly against Imayoshi as Imayoshi pins him down, bites Aomine on the shoulder and knows how he winces and struggles and flails and attempts to dominate. It's all in vain, and eventually he stills enough for Imayoshi to actually enter him, and he's so tight and his legs are half-kicking but he's getting used to the feeling already. He whines and soon he's begging Imayoshi to go harder and faster and his jaw is clenched and his body quivers and Imayoshi would be lying if he says he doesn't revel in the sight (and lying is bad!) but it is not graceful or smooth the way he thrusts his hips and arches his back and grunts Imayoshi's name.

* * *

6\. Tradition (Hanamiya/Nebuya, 532 wds, R)

It's tradition that all five of them meet up like this once a year—a tradition started by either Reo or Kiyoshi, and readily agreed to by Hayama. They wouldn't go if they could avoid it; Nebuya forgets about it every year but then without fail Reo will know that and show up at his door and press the doorbell with his giant fake nail again and again until Nebuya wakes up and opens the door.

Hayama's the only one who plays basketball anymore (Kiyoshi can't; Makoto won't; Reo just doesn't; Nebuya is somehow a mix of all three); he's in the NBA and famous for his temper and erratic behavior even more than he is for his basketball skills. He's famous, signs autographs for fans as they sit in the café, Nebuya and Makoto with matching scowls on their faces. Makoto's hand is like a clawing vice on Nebuya's leg, inching upward gradually until they both get impatient and Makoto finishes his inner battle between pleasing Nebuya (which he doesn't want to do) and pleasing himself, and he puts himself first so he starts groping Nebuya through his pants as Kiyoshi and Hayama yammer on about dumb shit that doesn't matter to either of them and Reo is listening, totally enraptured.

Nebuya abruptly pulls away and stands up, waking off in the direction of the men's room. Makoto follows. It doesn't matter if the others notice, because either way they won't say anything and they don't really enjoy their company or need it. Nebuya and Makoto showing up is just part of the tradition, another farcical element of this "uncrowned kings' reunion". Why do they need to be reminded of what they almost were, in a time so very long ago it seems like different people experienced those moments, played those games? Why do they strengthen the ties that should not bind them, renewing them year after year?

Makoto jerks him off rough and uneven in the bathroom stall and Nebuya chomps down on Makoto's hand in his mouth. It costs him (it always does); Makoto doesn't finish him but instead shoves him down on his knees and Nebuya sucks Makoto off, cutting straight to the chase and jerking himself off, too. Makoto growls, low and almost undetectable but still angry and irritated but ultimately indecisive, unsure of whether he wants Nebuya to suck him off or whether he wants to punish him more—and that, too, is tradition, and so is Nebuya spitting come into the toilet and both of them exiting separately from the bathroom stall, Makoto first, and by the time Nebuya reaches the table Makoto's left the restaurant.

It's tradition, too, that Nebuya pays for Makoto's coffee and half-eaten plate of macaroons (and finishes off the cookies, too, while he's at it, both because he's hungry again and so he can avoid talking to these people) and that Kiyoshi always says they should hang out more and Nebuya always gives a noncommittal shrug which means I'm too wishy-washy to tell you no. And it's tradition that the next time Nebuya jerks off he thinks of Makoto's calloused yet delicate palm and razor sharp nails on his cock.

* * *

7\. Hemiola (Midorima/Akashi, 189 wds, PG)

"Shintarou, do you know how this type of dance goes?"

Midorima has absentmindedly been tapping his foot to the beat of his favorite recording of Mozart minuet for piano while reading the paper, and it takes a few seconds for Akashi's words to register. "No," he says, and then glances back at the movie reviews. None of them look interesting.

Of course, he should know that since this is Akashi the question is not meaningless. The warm pressure of Akashi's fingers on his right hand cause him to look up again. A smirk plays on Akashi's lips as he pulls Midorima to his feet as if Midorima is a weightless doll, not a man fifteen kilograms heavier than Akashi. Akashi clasps his hand almost roughly to stop Midorima's flinching reflex and the automatic withdrawal of his hands. Akashi leads him around to the music, pressing his body closer and closer and slowing his movements down to once every two beats.

"Can you feel the hemiola, Shintarou?" Akashi whispers in his ear, breath hot on his neck.

Midorima is quite sure they didn't dance like this in the eighteenth century.

* * *

8\. Morning (Nijimura/Haizaki, 169 wds, PG)

The morning was chilling, down to the bone. Four AM and you needed to get to your first job, the early shift at the gas station. His arm was a hair's breadth from yours but not touching it, palms upward, the underside of the arms revealing the tattoo of a mangled, demented-looking angel. You moved slowly, silently, stealthily and he did not awaken. Several times, his breath hitched but he did not stir or open his eyes, and his breathing returned to normal soon afterward. Why did you feel like some creepy runaway scum, then, as you decided to forgo your morning shave, to wait and use the school bathroom, because you did not want to say even a temporary goodbye? You were never good at parting, always tried to drag it out and suck everything dry. It's not yet quarter past four as you shut the door behind you, turning the knob so the click of the lock is as nonexistent as possible.

He never calls you back.

* * *

9\. Forever (Imayoshi/Susa, 133 wds, PG13)

Susa could probably spend forever thinking of new ways to pleasure Imayoshi in bed. Well, strictly speaking that's probably not true, because he'd want to spend some of that forever actually implementing these methods. Because thinking about Imayoshi's eyes half-open and his firm, warm thighs pressed against Susa's torso and his hands clawing at Susa's back with their long nails like miniature serrated steak knives leaving paper cuts in their wake is completely different than seeing and feeling it. His imagination pales in comparison to reality, after all, and besides no matter how sure he is that Imayoshi will react a certain way to a finger here or a kiss placed there, he's wrong at least half the time. Still, the responses are almost always good, and the unexpectedness is its own reward.

* * *

10\. Louder (Aomine/Murasakibara, 511 wds, PG13)

Aomine Daiki considers himself a man of action, something that for some reason Satsuki found so funny when he'd said it the first time that she'd been unable to stand for about fifteen minutes while he'd scowled and yelled (probably, he realizes now, not the best way to defend his claim). Still, he knows he's no good with words, other than a choice few phrases. But that's life, really—a few phrases mixed in with sleep and basketball, and he's good to go.

Though he will never concede out loud that someone can beat him at his own games, Aomine knows that Murasakibara Atsushi is at least a close second to him in this lifestyle—he eats, he sleeps, he plays basketball, and he rarely speaks—he's much quieter than Aomine, unless he's mad, which isn't very often. He doesn't really have the energy to be mad with any regularity (it must be the fact that he runs on empty carbohydrates, and even that notwithstanding he can't possibly be getting enough calories for his 210-centimeter body to run optimally.

Sexually, they should be incompatible. Aomine wants to go harder, faster, has endless energy from which to draw from, and Murasakibara's such a lazy guy—but even he can rise to the occasion, push back forcefully, battle Aomine and hold his own. Aomine's never been reminded of how much  _larger_ Murasakibara is more than when they have sex, when Murasakibara's heavy body is on top of his, when Murasakibara's long torso and eight-pack and insane forearms are bared to him, when those long legs are wrapped around him (they could probably fit twice around his torso) and he could spend hours groping that ass if Murasakibara didn't decide on a whim that now they were going to skip any foreplay and exploration and they were going to get off right now. They fight about it, sure, but regardless of how things unfold, they're both still pretty satisfied with the end result.

Murasakibara's smarter than a lot of people give him credit for, manages to get good grades while barely studying and is able to figure out basketball plays within a few seconds. He surrounds himself with the right kind of people, people who will motivate him and make him do the stuff he positively does not want to but he knows he has to. Aomine is not one of those people, and maybe that's why he stays. He knows there's no pressure. He also knows that Aomine's not the kind of guy who will really enjoy any kind of pillow talk, and that hanging all over him is probably pushing it a bit (of course, that doesn't stop him at all from doing the latter, although doing it to everybody makes Aomine insanely jealous). But in the end, he does what he wants and leaves Aomine to respond however he wants, and sometimes when he spoons Aomine in the midst of the messy afterglow Aomine grabs his arms and pulls them close to his chest, because that says  _stay_  better than his mouth can.


	2. Chapter 2

11\. Fruit (Murasakibara Atsushi/fem!Midorima Shintarou, 459 wds, PG)

She claims to dislike sweet things; she gives him chocolate on Valentine's day with a flurry of excuses, such as it was her lucky item the other day (not true; he knows them all, from the bottle-opener key chain to the pink tote bag to the stuffed walrus) and that it totally doesn't mean she likes him or anything. He kisses her anyway, fists his hand through her thick green hair and knocks her glasses askew. She rises to her tiptoes, intimidated by the way he towers over her, even though she's the tallest girl in the class by at least fifteen centimeters. She is not soft and petite and delicate, like the other girls (who either are like that or convincingly pretend to be so) who giggle and wink; she tries her hardest to project an image of strength and utter unapproachability. They say things about her that intend hurt her, although she has long since developed a thick skin and good enough sense to not ever let them see her sweat. They say that she's really a man (no real girl would be this tall or strong), that she's a freak whatever she is, that even if she tried to act like other girls it would just be some horrible and insulting imitation, something crude. So she emphasizes her lack of feminine cuteness, staring longingly at boxes of pocky and cans of red bean soup as she sips her unsweetened oolong tea and hides today's lucky item deep in the bottom of her bag because it's a teddy bear cell phone strap and she's not cute enough for it to look good on her flip phone.

Someday, she's going to realize (and she has to on her own) that they'll never be satisfied with who she pretends to be, that they're not going to leave her alone unless she's truly comfortable with herself—even with the glaring, self-assured façade she puts on it's easy to find the weak spots. All he can do is inch her along, drop by the classroom and feed her sweet fruit, peaches and berries and plums and oranges, dividing them up into slices so that they can share. These she accepts, acting ungrateful and haughty, but almost screaming when he puts his fingers into her mouth to lick off the sticky juice. People will talk, she hisses, and this is a classroom and you shouldn't be so lewd, but it's worth it because she's so pretty when she's embarrassed and she's not really mad at him because she says it might be okay to do it once in a while in private, even though she really doesn't like the taste of fruit because it's too sweet and she doesn't eat sweet things.

* * *

12\. Acceptance (Ootsubo Taisuke/Miyaji Kiyoshi, 324 wds, PG13)

Taisuke rolls his eyes whenever Kiyoshi calls him captain, because seriously they're friends aren't they? Kiyoshi has no reason to show him deference, or mock-deference for that matter. So why anyway? Kiyoshi turns his head down, using his lack of height (well, compared to Taisuke) to his advantage and mutters something about how Taisuke's not going to let it get to his head.

Still, Taisuke prides himself on being able to read people but he's not sure quite what's been going on with Kiyoshi lately. After a long period of thinking, knitting to keep his hands busy and not realizing just how long the scarf he's knit has become, and coming to no conclusions other than the fact that he needs more red yarn, he asks Shinsuke.

Shinsuke pats him on the shoulder and says, "I thought it was obvious. Kiyoshi likes you."

Oh. Taisuke can't help but feel his cheeks heat up at the notion, and although he hasn't concretely phrased his feelings—he has been thinking a lot about Kiyoshi lately, hasn't he? He's been thinking way more about the guy than he has about anyone else, any of his other friends or teammates, and in a different way. He  _needs_  to know what's on Kiyoshi's mind,  _needs_  to discern what he means, how he feels—it's all becoming clearer to him now.

"Thanks, Shinsuke."

"Hey, no problem, man," Shinsuke says, shoving Taisuke off the bench. "Now go get him, okay? I'm sick of his whole sighing-and-pining routine."

It's a good thing Kiyoshi's not here at this particular moment, because Taisuke is quite sure a pineapple would come hurtling toward them if that were the case.

Taisuke kisses Kiyoshi, half-aggressive and half-inquisitive, waiting to see how he responds. Kiyoshi's the first to deepen the kiss but also the first to pull away.

"Bastard captain," he mutters under his breath before he leans up and kisses Taisuke. "I wanted to be first."

* * *

13\. Bright (Nakatani Masaaki/Alexandra Garcia, 252 wds, PG13)

He knows he's seen her somewhere before—his immediate thought is that she was once a model, because staring at her straight back and long blonde hair and the way she walks so confidently in high heels even though she's so tall (probably as tall as he is)—and those legs go on for miles and miles. He asks her, something he wouldn't do on an ordinary day, but today he's had a little too much champagne (Kimura's mother had absolutely insisted that he and the boys all take a bottle each, even as he protested that it was third place and some of the younger ones, Takao in particular, shouldn't be drinking, although in the end he'd acquiesced) and he actually feels kind of giddy, still holding onto some of that afterglow, even though it was a runoff game against a team without its best player.

She turns around and he's blinded by her smile, so bright it casts away the shadows of the cold winter evening. He almost can't move.

It turns out she's not a model per se, although she's done it a few times in the past. She's a basketball player, too, she says, and then it all clicks together. She recognizes him, too; she says she's always admired his ability to keep cool and that she tended to get a little too fired up, even as a pro. They share a laugh. Her smile is still dazzling; he begins to think that it will never burn out.

* * *

14\. Illusion (Kise Ryouta/Midorima Shintarou, 119 wds, K+)

The light from the paper lantern flickers, and on the wall their shadows seem to dance, or at least that's what it seems like from Kise's half-closed eyes when he's lying on the futon. Truthfully, their bodies together form a kind of lumpy shadow now, when they're just lying next to each other, but if you're being romantic (and, Kise supposes, he has to be romantic enough for the both of them given the situation) it looks as if they're dancing.

"We're dancing, Midorimacchi."

Midorima is probably closer to sleep than Kise, and he grumbles something unintelligible (probably along the lines of "what the hell are you talking about?" although Kise will imagine it's "yes; I love the foxtrot").

* * *

15\. Sunshine (Kimura Shinsuke/Ootsubo Taisuke, 243 wds, K)

The first time they met, it was sunny out, early spring, the opening ceremony. Truthfully, Kimura doesn't remember all that much about that day—he'd grabbed an apple on the way out and made sure to correctly button his uniform, but he cannot recall what route he took to get there. Somehow, he ended up crossing paths with an incredibly chatty guy who introduced himself as Ootsubo.

Kimura had been surprised to meet someone taller than him this quickly, though Shutoku has always been known for its exemplary basketball program. Still, this guy was larger than life, and he and Kimura were already fast friends by the time they reached the school grounds.

Of course, their paths diverged after that—Kimura played on the second string and Ootsubo the first; they were in different classes and travelled in different circles. They managed to say hi in the hallways and during practice, though, and the thought of being with Ootsubo—playing basketball with him, supporting that confident style somehow—that was what spurred Kimura on when the workouts got a little too tough and demanding and it seemed like he'd never get better at rebounding.

Now, they stand hand in hand. Kimura can't recall exactly how they finally got together, how many "accidental" touches or lingering looks or offhand comments it took before their lips met and they clutched each other's shaking, nervous bodies—but he remembers that that, too, was a sunny day.

* * *

16\. Soft (Murasakibara Atsushi/Himuro Tatsuya, 172 wds, PG)

Nothing about Muro-chin is soft. His hips jut out sharply; his palms are rough; his gaze is steely; his legs are firm; his will is strong. He is delicate, yes, the way his hair faintly turns up at the end and some of the gestures he makes, the intricate details he puts into his words, into his basketball.

Atsushi is drawn to him anyway, even though he loves softness and warmth, pillows and sleeping and fleece jackets, and he always overdoes it on the fabric softener when he does his laundry but he doesn't care because it's so soft and feels so nice.

Muro-chin feels nice even though he's not soft, because he's gentle and kind anyway, even though sometimes he's selfish and unreasonable—Atsushi knows he's like that too much, so it's only fair for others to get their chance. No one's perfect, after all. Muro-chin won't really get it if he says this, though, so Atsushi just hugs him tighter and lets Muro-chin's hips and nails dig into his skin.

* * *

17\. Ice (Susa Yoshinori/Imayoshi Shouichi, 363 wds, PG)

Of course Shouichi's good at ice skating. Why wouldn't he be? He's an athlete, for starters, and he's always had great balance. He understands thing well, too, picks up on the subtleties that no one else looks for, and he's a quick learner. So of course he can skate circles around Yoshinori, and he does it with that typical malicious glee on his face. Yoshinori's not a bad skater per se, but he's not all that good, either. He's decent, but rather slow, and he can't go backwards or make super crazy manipulations. It would be nice if Shouichi would just pretend to suck for a while so that Yoshinori could pull him along romantically, but…for some reason he won't.

Yoshinori leans on the side of the ice rink. A mother moves past with her young son, both of them wobbling but managing to make their way around the place. Yoshinori's left ankle is already aching, and he bends down to rub it and scowls. He's standing back up when a spray of miniature ice flakes hits him in the face. Shouichi grins at him, arms crossed, weight shifting from one leg to the other. "Tired?"

He grabs Yoshinori's hands in his and starts to pull him along, skating gently backwards. Yoshinori resolves to not tell him when he's about to run into someone, even if it means (and it certainly will, knowing Shouichi) that he'll get pulled down, too. Shouichi starts to go faster, and even though Yoshinori's probably not in any real danger he struggles to keep from panicking. They've been going around in a circle, but Shouichi decides to keep on going straight, though the path is relatively unobstructed. The wall grows nearer; Yoshinori says nothing.

Shouichi crashes against the wall and the momentum presses Yoshinori's body up against his, and when he starts to move backward and almost fall, Shouichi catches him, stops him from going any further than he is, which as of now is about five centimeters away from Shouichi.

Their mouths meet, and then Shouichi comes off the wall, meeting his body with Yoshinori's again, and this is better than skating around the ice any day.

* * *

18\. Bed (Aomine Daiki/Murasakibara Atsushi, 425 wds, R)

Aomine likes to sleep as much as the next guy; hell, he likes to sleep more than the next guy. It's a suitable alternative to pretty much everything. Sleep is even more fun when it's after a vigorous round of sex and he's sprawled out with his hands still tangled in his lover's hands or hair, or at least in some way keeping in contact with warm skin. The thing about Murasakibara is that he keeps too close, likes to cuddle up to Aomine, practically engulf him (Aomine doesn't usually get much of a chance to feel small, but this makes him feel miniature) in his thick, long arms and his strong, muscled legs, and the sweat on his neck and chest doesn't even have time to dry and he feels like he's going to overheat when he's supposed to be cooling down. If he does manage to kick Murasakibara off of him while he settles into sleep, he'll wake up with his face pressed awkwardly against Murasakibara's shoulder, drooling on his neck (which he doesn't give a shit about) and matted purple hair denting his forehead. He tries to pull away but Murasakibara is too stubborn.

"Mine-chin needs to stay put," he'll say, as if Aomine is some kind of stubborn puppy or naughty child. Aomine resists, but he's still too sleepy to fight right now, and now he's way too used to it to be able to comfortably sleep alone. He's on the roof and the weight of the porn magazine or empty food container is not enough, not nearly enough to mimic the pressure of a larger body. The sun is too directly on top of him; the wind does not stir against him in the same way.

Sometimes he tries to go for sex when they wake up and he's especially refreshed, but Murasakibara won't have any of that either. He starts running his hands up and down Murasakibara's thighs and kissing his neck and Murasakibara sighs because he's too tired right now. He sleeps even more than Aomine does, and he's always tired and lazy and half-asleep, and he's got those extreme half-closed bedroom eyes all the time and he only kind of half-realizes what he's doing to Aomine sometimes (sometimes he uses it to his advantage, but those occasions are mercifully rare). Murasakibara clicks his tongue and clutches Aomine closer so he can't move and kisses him on the forehead and then just goes back to sleep, leaving Aomine half-hard and unable to do a damn thing about it.

* * *

19\. Frail (Murasakibara Atsushi/Araki Masako, 218, PG)

_It's not okay to make a move_ , Muro-chin had told him,  _until a year and a day after you graduate. Can you wait that long?_

At the time it had seemed like an eternity, although there were more pressing things than grace periods on his mind, like how Muro-chin had even figured it out and whether he should go to sleep or eat a box of pocky or do some of his homework. But he had nodded and trusted Muro-chin because he always knew about these kinds of things and held his feelings inside.

He wondered if they'd disappear. He hadn't seen her at all since he graduated, but still thought of her often, thought of her fondly. He's not one to overanalyze his feelings and try and dismiss them as frail or trivial or decide that they fit in a certain category, so the time has not made him doubt the legitimacy of his longing. Whether it's love, infatuation, lust, admiration—he doesn't know yet. It will sort itself out with time.

Akita has not changed much in a year. He has not expected it to.

She has not changed much, either. She stands, leaning against the wall, clipboard in hand. She's waiting for him. Something not entirely unlike a smile plays on her lips. "Murasakibara."

"Masako-chin."

* * *

20\. Holiday (Kobori Kouji/Nakamura Shinya, 297 wds, G)

Nakamura's like a butterfly, fluttering away, impossible to pin down. He shows up to practice and stays late practicing his shot, using every pointer Coach gives him—and still the ball bounces off the rim, off the backboard and straight back into his hands or to the floor. It's adorable and endearing how hard he tries and Kobori really wishes he could help, because the few times the ball does go in it's impossible to erase the small but brilliant smile from Nakamura's face. But other than practice and immediately afterward, it's impossible to find him in the halls or in his classroom. He's very quiet, but when he's there he can be seen—it's impossible to miss those eyebrows and that serious pouty expression that's almost always on his face.

Still, when Kobori asks, by texting him or somehow catching him, Nakamura always gives him time. He always gets that smile like he's just made a shot and blushes faintly. Their time together is limited, and as a result their relationship moves very slowly—they don't travel in the same circles (Kobori sticks with the other starting members; Nakamura has a few buddies from his class) and even in the basketball club their duties are quite separate and they don't ever come into much contact.

Their dates are like mini-holidays, breaks from their stupid reality when they can just relax and be themselves. They don't talk about basketball much, or school in general. They're sick of both of them by now. Still, when they go to the temple, Kobori grasps Nakamura's hands tightly and squeezes his eyes shut, wishing for these hands to be able to release a rubber ball more steadily and consistently, for the ball to fall through the hoop with a serene grace.

* * *

21\. Gray (Susa Yoshinori/Imayoshi Shouichi, 163 wds, PG)

Why did they get an apartment on the forty-third floor of an insanely tall high rise? When the fog rolls in, the windows are engulfed in the gray and they cannot see out of the bedroom windows, or the living room, mist lapping up against the screens and seeping in, cold and wet, until they shut the glass and let the water condense against it from the inside, such that it is impossible to draw things in the frost—not that it stops Shouichi from trying every time. (His depth perception sucks, even with glasses.)

"What if I dropped you out the window?" Shouichi asks casually, stabbing at his breakfast with his chopsticks. "Would you vanish from existence, Yoshinori-kun?"

What a thing to say. Yoshinori shrugs. "Please don't say that with such a smile on your face."

"Are you implying that I'd do it?"

Yoshinori snorts. "No, I'm saying directly that you'd do it."

A chopstick taps his palm. "I wouldn't, you know."


	3. Chapter 3

22\. Smile (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou, 269 wds, PG13)

Aomine pokes Midorima's cheek, eliciting a deeper scowl. Normally, that's the surefire last resort that makes even the grouchiest, most resistant object of his affections smile or laugh, but not this guy. He just won't smile, hasn't smiled even once on any of their dates. He doesn't smile during sex (though his facial expressions are pretty fucking hot and he definitely seems to be experiencing pleasure, they're not smiles) or even afterward. He just lies there limply when Aomine tries to spoon him. It's kind of hard to do considering the guy has five or six centimeters and a few kilograms on him.

Does he even know how to smile? Aomine's known him for a long time, come to think of it, and he can't ever recall seeing Midorima smile. Still, Kise had said something about seeing him smile once, so he can. He has. He just won't.

If he doesn't like this that much, why is he still here? Is he that bored? It's always Aomine who instigates things, starts the text conversation, does the calling and inviting out and inviting over. Shit. Why does he even like this guy anyway?

"You know, if you don't want to, we can stop or something," Aomine says. "You don't have to feel obligated to do any of this."

Midorima rolls over and glares at him before kissing him senseless. How he can do that when he seems so tired right now is beyond Aomine, but he can't remember the end of his thought because Midorima's mouth is doing amazing things to his. It's not a smile, but it's reassuring nevertheless.

* * *

23\. Summer Haze (Nebuya Eikichi/Hanamiya Makoto, 176 wds, PG)

There are days when Makoto is tired, and when he's tired he's almost as lazy and up for anything as Eikichi, although they are pretty few and far between. Eikichi's a pretty flexible guy; as long as he's not too restricted and no one's harping on him too much (the only people who harp on him at all really are Reo and his mother; Makoto gets mad at him but it's not like some kind of persistent nagging—Makoto doesn't want or expect him to change, finds some weird sadomasochistic pleasure in loathing certain parts of Eikichi) he's good to go.

When Makoto doesn't have the energy to make up dumb lies that are by now obvious to Eikichi despite the sincere (but not overly so) tone, when he lets his proud shoulders hunch, when he kisses Eikichi's neck and doesn't bite, when he just lies back in the summer haze—it's so much sweeter than when he's faking it, when he's trying hard to assert himself as smarter or meaner. That makes everything worth it.

* * *

24\. Confusion (Kagami Taiga/Takao Kazunari, 167 wds, PG)

It's confusing how one minute he's sitting on the couch watching basketball and the next Takao has nestled himself firmly and comfortably in Kagami's arms and is conducting his own running commentary, drowning out the announcers and (in Kagami's opinion) doing a much better job with both the play-by-play and the color. He's tired, but he can't stop paying attention to the sound of that voice and the much smaller fingers that confidently lace themselves inside his, even as he closes his eyes and bows his head, nuzzling Takao's neck where it meets his shoulder. Takao doesn't miss a beat with his commentary, so then of course Kagami has to kiss him, even as he mumbles something about foul play into Kagami's lips. They break apart and even though their faces are at an awkward angle away from each other, Kagami can see Takao has an adoring smile on his face. After that, they're both quiet, too wrapped up in each other to care about the game.

* * *

25\. Paper (Kagami Taiga/Takao Kazunari, 142 wds, PG)

The thin receipt flutters out from between his two fingers and Kagami mutters a curse under his breath as it gets lost in the whirl of leaves swirling and dancing in the wind. Oh, well, it's not like he  _needs_ it. He's about to abandon the paper to the streets when he feels a sudden pressure on his hand. He turns and can't help but return Takao's wide grin as the receipt, plucked from the air by his boyfriend's steady, hawk-eye-guided hand, is pressed into his palm. He squeezes Takao's hand (as if he'd let go anyway) and gives him a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Thanks."

Takao just lets his grin turn into a smirk. The paper is being crushed between their hands and the ink is no doubt rubbing off. It doesn't matter; there are other things on their minds.

* * *

26\. Too Easy (Nebuya Eikichi/Hanamiya Makoto, 102 wds, PG)

Makoto slouches in his seat across from Eikichi. Eikichi continues to shovel the beef into his mouth, registering his boyfriend's presence but not acknowledging it.

"You know, Eikichi," Makoto says, stretching out his name in that way he does when he's trying to get someone's attention, "Everyone else was just too easy. You're a challenge."

Eikichi continues to eat, and the two sit in relative silence until he finishes and gets up and goes to the fridge, rifling through the contents.

"Like I'd say that!" Makoto yells.

He seems angrier than usual this time. Ah, well, there's more beef to be eaten.

* * *

27\. Farm (Takao Kazunari/Kiyoshi Teppei, 279 wds, PG)

Waiting for the peppers to poke their little leaf-heads out of the ground is hard work. Kazunari's a pretty impatient guy, wants his results right  _now_  but he says it in a way laced with double and triple meanings.

Teppei understands the impatience, the waiting for something that will take time to arrive and that cannot be disturbed. It's like his rehab from surgery, both times—of course, each time he had less to go back to but there was still the seemingly-endless waiting for the day he was allowed to walk on crutches, then to walk with a cane, then to walk without. He also understands the other things Kazunari wants to do to occupy the time before the leaves and stems sprout, so they slip off under the overhang of the porch while it rains and kiss each other to make the cool April day warmer. The scar on Teppei's knee aches, but it is Kazunari's hand (half the size of his) that gets there first. He sees everything; he sees the pain before Teppei does and seeks to alleviate it.

"Even Tecchan needs someone to take care of him sometimes," Kazunari says, because of course he sees the question before Teppei can properly form it into words.

Kazunari's knees are fresh and good, and he can crouch down and peer closely at the ground, and it's hard not to smile at the childish excitement on his face when he sees a small speck of green sprouting up. It might be a weed, but it doesn't matter. Teppei hauls him to his feet and kisses him again, needing to satisfy his sudden craving for that beautiful smile.

* * *

28\. Bleachers (Susa Yoshinori/Imayoshi Shouichi, 139 wds, PG)

Their first kiss is behind the bleachers in the Seihou gym after a practice match (they won, of course) in their second year. Susa waits; Imayoshi sidles up. They're the same height now, although Susa's gained a lot of weight recently and is waiting for another growth spurt (it's nice to be tall, especially as a basketball player, but he hopes this one isn't too sudden, because growing eleven centimeters in two months last summer was rough), so Imayoshi knows this might be his last chance to be able to look at him on eye level without having to stand on something. His lips meet Susa's; both of them had been anticipated this for longer than they should have, because this kiss is sweet and savory and all kinds of wonderful. How could they have held out so long?

* * *

29\. Ravenous (Kiyoshi Teppei/Furihata Kouki, 151 wds, PG)

Furihata doesn't know what he does to Kiyoshi, the way he bites his lip and furrows his brow and lets his hair fall just so to frame his face (he needs to get it cut, but at the same time he shouldn't because it's just so adorable). Kiyoshi's not sure he likes this ravenous self that awakens whenever Furihata moves just so or looks at him just so, because it's impossible to quell it no matter how tightly he hugs Furihata (he's afraid he'll squeeze all the air out one day) or how much he smothers him with kisses. Furihata is timid, but he is not afraid of this—at first he was, but now Kiyoshi is the one who's afraid of himself and Furihata who has to coax him out of his shell, mumbling sweet words of encouragement into Kiyoshi's chest, "yes" and "please, Senpai" and wordless moans and sighs.


	4. Chapter 4

30\. Lost Cell Phone (Aomine Daiki/Murasakibara Atsushi, 124 wds, PG)

Why does he even pick up this call from a random number?

"Mine-chin, I've lost my phone."

"So why the hell are you calling me?"

"Come and pick me up. I'm lost."

The logistics of that statement are nonexistent, but that's par for the course with this guy. How the hell is Aomine supposed to find a random pay phone, especially when Murasakibara won't give him the cross streets or describe his surroundings very well?

Still, Aomine ends up finding him and buys him a bag of chips despite himself. Murasakibara isn't angry or impatient or entirely ungrateful, and that's surprising—Aomine gives him a questioning glance.

Murasakibara wraps his arm around Aomine. "Mine-chin came and found me," he says.

He's so simple, really.

* * *

31\. Drink (Miyaji Kiyoshi/Takao Kazunari, 106 wds, PG13)

This is why Miyaji hates cappuccinos. They're so messy and he constantly feels like there's a circle of foam around his mouth, even when there isn't, so he's given up on licking his lips because it looks weird, okay?

That doesn't mean that Takao won't lean over and lick the foam off for him, eliciting a moan that Miyaji wishes wasn't quite so loud given the fact that they're in a public café. He wants to yell at Takao but the cute smirk on his face is overwhelming, so instead he just punches the table.

Takao kisses the bruises on his fist to make them better.

* * *

32\. Infatuation (Nebuya Eikichi/Hanamiya Makoto, 195 wds, PG)

Makoto tries to break him; he tries very hard. The thing is, Eikichi is so strong that at this point he can't be broken—not by Makoto's deft hands, even. It infuriates Makoto and makes him furrow his large eyebrows and it actually looks kind of charming. Eikichi tries to explain this to him in the middle of one of Makoto's rants on how great he is, and it only gets worse.

Eikichi sighs. "Protein, that's how I'm so strong."

"It doesn't work that way!" Makoto snaps. He's pouting, sticking out his lower lip and it's even more adorable that Eikichi can't stop himself from kissing Makoto.

Makoto bites Eikichi's lip and pinches him hard on the hand. It hurts, yeah, but he's still not broken. And as much as Makoto is protesting and attacking, he's not actually pulling away—as he bites, he leans into Eikichi's chest, compact yet forceful, and the way he knocks his knee against Eikichi's isn't just meant to make him buckle to the ground (which he doesn't). And his hands have stopped their pinching and lie loosely intertwined with Eikichi's, which for Makoto counts as a very affectionate gesture.

* * *

33\. Blink (Alexandra Garcia/Araki Masako, 181 wds, PG)

Masako's face is usually set in some kind of a blank stare, straight ahead, ignoring her surroundings or intensely focused on one thing, or some kind of mixture of the two. Alex likes that expression; Masako looks cute like that, something Alex once made the mistake of telling her—which brought her face into its secondary expression, the frown with the twitching veins and the mouth that moves in some sort of blur (it's not clear and still even when Alex is wearing her glasses), the only other expression most people think Masako has.

Alex considers herself very lucky to have seen Masako's third expression. It's rare, the diamond in the rough that Masako has conditioned herself to never show. When Alex catches her off-guard with a kiss that's not demanding but tentative and lingering, and then pulls away, she sometimes has enough time to register the faint flush on Masako's face before she suppresses it and the way her lips are parted softly in a half-smile and the sheer bliss in her eyes. But if she blinks, she'll miss it.

* * *

34\. Marbles (Susa Yoshinori/Aomine Daiki, 202 wds, PG13)

Sometimes when Aomine's around there are marbles in Susa's throat. He wonders if he has any kind of a gag reflex left because it's like his neck is about to burst open from the pressure and he wheezes breaths in short puffs, hands clasping Aomine on the shoulder. Aomine cocks an eyebrow and lets a grin spread across his face and places his mouth on Susa.

The kiss is resuscitation, forcing sweet air through his lungs and he hangs on for dear life. He's pathetic, but not as pathetically easy as Aomine, who pants and moans when they're only kissing and he's always so desperately horny—the kid's sex drive is higher than anyone Susa's ever met (though, of course, he doesn't discuss sex drive with most other people, but the topic comes up with Aomine way before they start fucking anyway).

Well, he's had his fix and they need to get to practice. He pulls away. Aomine tries to pull him back by his tie. "Bastard," he says when Susa grabs the tie away.

Susa shrugs. It's kind of cute that Aomine thinks that after two and a half years of the Touou basketball team comments like these would affect him.

* * *

35\. Mirror (Aomine Daiki/Kise Ryouta, 116 wds, PG)

Kise copies things, not only basketball moves, but gestures and motions and speech patterns and expressions. Part of it's unconscious; he's just so used to adding things to his repertoire that he does it without thinking. Still, it doesn't bug Aomine, because he co-opts them and then makes them his own, combining them with what he already knows. Plus, no matter how exactly the same as some other model the way Kise tucks a lock of hair behind his ear is the smirk on his face is pure Kise, and so is the glint in his eye. Despite everything he's taken, he's a true original.

Besides, there's no way anyone else could kiss him like that.

* * *

36\. Kiss (Nebuya Eikichi/Furihata Kouki, 102 wds, PG)

That Furihata kid doesn't get a lot of minutes. He's not an especially brilliant point guard, especially when compared with Akashi (comparing the two is unfair to both of them, though; Even Nebuya can see that). Still, there's something about that look on his face of utter terror that's a little bit unnerving (how he finds anything unnerving, especially after playing almost two whole years with Akashi is beyond Nebuya but that's beside the point) and at the same time kind of…cute (okay, Akashi's not the problem here. He's definitely been spending too much time around Reo). Nebuya kind of wants to kiss him.

* * *

37\. Sunset (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou, 495 wds, PG13)

It's closer to sunrise than sunset, and when you're coming home after work that's not a good thing. Even if tomorrow is a day off, the case has kept you way too late and you know exactly what you're going to come home to—not that Aomine is thinking about that. He's thinking about one foot in front of the other and he's really getting too old for this shit, even being a cop behind a desk, and what pocket were his keys in again? He comes in and the light of the foyer is much too bright when compared to the dim hallway and the pitch black outdoors and he squints. The TV is on quietly in the living room; he slips off his shoes and places his keys on the small table.

Midorima is watching TV; he turns slowly at the creak in the floorboards. His eyes are half-closed and his perfect posture is in a slump. He's watching an infomercial; that shit is likely to put you to sleep when you're fully alert. Aomine is both impressed and annoyed.

"Welcome home," Midorima says quietly, blinking several times.

Aomine doesn't know why he feels guilty—he didn't even have enough time to himself to grab a cup of coffee or take a bathroom break, let alone text or call. He could have done something on the way home, sure, but he was completely drained (still is, wants to flop down on the couch and put his head in Midorima's lap and sleep for two days straight) and he'd suppressed the voice in his mind telling him to call (because he should be asleep unless he wants to pull a goddamn all-nighter or something).

He walks over to the couch and offers a hand, pulls Midorima to his feet. Midorima avoids complete eye contact, pushing up his glasses and busily shifting his gaze and then picking up the remote to turn off the TV.

"Don't stay up so late," Aomine says, catching Midorima's hand in his own. Green eyes jerk back over to meet blue. Neither looks away.

Aomine yanks on Midorima's arm and starts walking. "Come on, you need to get to bed."

Midorima's feebly protesting, and tries to struggle against Aomine's arm when it presses him against the bed because he's still wearing his regular clothes and it's not right to sleep in them and it messes up his rituals. He's going to feel like hell anyway, tomorrow, but a few extra minutes of sleep will be worth it, and the struggles aren't really wholehearted. Even he is too tired to care sometimes.

Aomine's drifting off, a few seconds after letting his head hit the pillow, when Midorima moves against him again—but he just pulls Aomine into his arms and kisses his neck. Aomine decides to let Midorima think he's already asleep—not like the self-satisfaction will be good for Midorima, but honestly he's too tired and it feels too good.

* * *

38\. Lively (Alexandra Garcia/Aomine Daiki, 490 wds, PG13)

She's somehow lively without being peppy or annoying—it strikes him that she's really just  _human_  when they're lying in bed and it's a little too cold and neither of them is getting up to make any coffee. Usually, she does but sometimes if she's stolen all the covers or he has to get up earlier he does, and even when she gets up willingly and early she's not happy about it. It's complicated, and he's too tired to properly think about it now. From the way Kagami had described her it was like she was some kind of perfect basketball goddess—but Kagami's clouded by his idolizations and his childhood, and not only that but the way she works hard to avoid showing him that she has any weakness.

She's not afraid of showing Aomine the things about her she doesn't like, the more human parts of her, the parts that aren't always smart and lively and funny, and that might be the thing that charms him most about her and makes him secretly pleased. These are parts of her that she doesn't show to anyone else, really—not to her boss, not to her basketball opponents, not to most of the people she loves.

Aomine, on the other hand, shows everyone the negative parts of himself, the lazy part and the lewd part and the idiocy and the part of him that bullies and belittles others. Some people look past that and focus on the little good he shows—his talent (is that good?) and his power and his looks (but those aren't really good qualities either) and his loyalty when shit goes down. Kise looks at the talent and Tetsu desperately focuses on the loyalty and Satsuki is stuck in the past with him. But Alex likes him for all these—although neither the good nor the bad of his façade is what really matters to her. She sees the loyalty that's always inside him, hidden, and forces it out, and she sees the way he's interested in people and things other than himself far more often than he lets on. She knows the parts of himself that make him uncomfortable, the way he knows the parts of her that make her uncomfortable, and that's why he's going to get up at nine in the morning when they both have a day off to make coffee.

He sits up, stretches. She yanks at his wrist, catching him by surprise so that he lands on top of her. Her eyes are only half-open (not like she could see that well anyway) but she's memorized the shape of his body and her hands land on exactly the right spots. She mutters something in Spanish and pulls him closer. He doesn't know the exact words, but it's probably something to do with it being too early and that she's too cold.

He's still pretty tired. Sleep is a good idea.


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

39\. Working Hard (Miyaji Kiyoshi/Takao Kazunari, 253 wds, PG)

Takao seems to be a carefree kind of guy, but Miyaji knows better. He works hard at everything—he's not the most talented basketball player when it comes to raw physical ability; hawk's eye aside he has almost no natural talent. His passes are not graceful, nor are his shots the careless-looking floating things of a natural shooter. His walk is slightly pigeon-toed; when the other guys are working after practice on their shots or their jumps, he's practicing his step. He's not even really doing suicides; he's just running a few steps, then a bit longer incrementally and staring down at his feet as if he can will them straight just by looking.

The admittance of his flaws, the strive to eliminate them—it's more evident in Takao than in anyone else Miyaji knows. It's one of the things he likes most about Takao (although it's one of a hell of a lot of things he likes about Takao, even though he can be an annoying brat sometimes). It's what makes him step in when everyone else is already gone or in the showers and Takao is still running and tell him that he's done enough for today, that everyone has limits, that he'll hurt himself if he tries too long.

"I know," Takao says, panting, and he grabs onto Miyaji's arm and gives him a grin that's only half in earnest. There's nothing in the vicinity to throw at him, so Miyaji just lets Takao lean on his shoulder for now.

* * *

40\. Rain of Blossoms (Mibuchi Reo/Nebuya Eikichi, 303 wds, PG)

In a perfect world, he'd walk constantly showered in a rain of blossoms, pink and purple and yellow, delicate and pale and falling softly—more like snow than rain (but more like rain than hail or sleet or fog) if one is being honest. That's how Mibuchi Reo used to think, before he fell in love with a guy who gets horrible hay fever every spring, so bad he can hardly see his eyes are so puffy and red and who sneezes violently and disgustingly whenever he comes face to face with a flower and gets snot everywhere (seriously, it's disgusting). And it would be harder to kiss with petals getting stuck between their lips and in their mouths and all over. It sounds romantic, but it's totally impractical—not that Mibuchi's the most practical guy. But even he has his limits.

Nebuya buys him a bouquet of plastic flowers on Valentine's Day. After all, Mibuchi's love of flowers isn't exactly something unknown. They're beautiful, giant daffodils mixed with pink roses and tulips and even some fake baby's breath. Honestly, Mibuchi wasn't expecting anything, but the annoying voice inside his head says he should start giving his boyfriend more credit because it is most certainly due here.

The best thing about these fake flowers—besides them being his favorite types of flowers and given to him by his favorite person—are that they last forever. He puts them in a vase on his nightstand next to his alarm clock, and months later they're still there, fake dewdrops shining in the light just like they had when Nebuya half-sheepishly presented them to him after morning practice. The next time Nebuya comes over, he raises an eyebrow at them and his lips turn up at the corners and then he presses them to Mibuchi's cheek.

* * *

41\. Simplicity (Kiyoshi Teppei/Furihata Kouki, 183 wds, PG)

When he sleeps, the creases on his face smooth out and his fingers do not clutch so tightly around Teppei's arm and his shoulders relax slightly and his heartbeat is steady. It's beautiful and simple, a side of him that Kouki himself perhaps does not know exists—sometimes he tries to let himself go, be less nervous, and sometimes he forgets to be afraid when he's awake, but those are brief flashes of a few seconds at most. In his dreams, he is free of anxiety, has slipped out of these terrible mental shackles. Teppei brushes back the soft brown hair from where it's fallen over Kouki's cheek and he does not stir, too wrapped up in his subconscious. Teppei knows he should be asleep, too; he has school tomorrow and he has to get up early, and he's not actually doing anything right now except watching the moonlight streaks wind their way across Kouki's face. But he could watch this forever, encompass himself in the moment where he's alone in the muffled night quiet and wrapped up in this beautiful boy's simplicity.

* * *

42\. Clocked (Imayoshi Shouichi/Kasamatsu Yukio, 155 wds, PG13)

Kasamatsu feels like he's been clocked in the chest by the demon that is Imayoshi, and he wants revenge for the extra sweat on his palms and the flush on his face and the butterflies in his stomach and the tingling on his lips at the (somehow constant) thought of putting them on Imayoshi's. It's just bad, all of it; he feels royally fucked. He rages at Imayoshi, who barely lifts an eyebrow and when Kasamatsu pauses because he can't think of words around Imayoshi and always feels hopelessly inadequate, Imayoshi asks, "Are you quite done?"

Kasamatsu's about to just sink his head into his arms when Imayoshi kisses him, licks at his teeth that are clamped shut and now part willingly even though his mind is screaming no. He pulls closer and closes his eyes and wants to feel every centimeter of his body against every inch of Imayoshi's in a one-to-one ratio.

* * *

43\. Fashion (Momoi Satsuki/Takao Kazunari, 224 wds, PG13)

The tentative link between them is Kise, who thinks they'd totally get along, and he's absolutely right. Even though all three of them are talkers, they manage to distribute the conversation equally and then somehow it turns to people watching. Kise has somehow chosen the two most observant and insightful people he knows, and even though he's no slouch himself he's clearly outclassed by Momoi and Takao. Unfortunately, he's also surrounded by fans and gets busy signing autographs, leaving his friends alone together.

"I really don't understand people's outfits sometimes," Takao says with a sigh. "But then again, I don't understand fashion. Like, is it just me? Do you get any of it?"

He seems genuinely curious, and for once Momoi is not ashamed to shake her head. They always assume that she should know more about this sort of thing just because she's a girl—but really, she just wears what's comfortable and in colors that she likes.

"That's a relief," he says, flashing her a brilliant smile, and as his hand not-so-subtly brushes hers as he reaches across the table to steal some of Kise's abandoned coffee because his cup is empty. He winks at her and she smiles and she'd try to stop herself from blushing if her immediate concern wasn't that her heart's about to beat out of her chest.

* * *

44\. Spilled Ink (Mibuchi Reo/Hanamiya Makoto, 175 wds, PG13)

Hanamiya's eyebrows are like splotches of spilled ink across his forehead. They look rough and at the same time studied, but more than that they're irresistibly cute. Hanamiya's irresistibly cute, with his angry little scowl and crossed arms and thinner shoulders than Mibuchi expected. Unfortunately, he's completely unreceptive to Mibuchi's charms. Mibuchi's met tsundere guys before, but nothing like this. The scowl doesn't begin to turn up at the corners and he seems genuinely annoyed. So Mibuchi makes a last-ditch effort.

"You're really cute, Mako-chan."

And he blushes. Success. Of course, he starts yelling about how Mibuchi is a stupid annoying fucker who needs to leave him the hell alone and not call him Mako-chan because they are not on a first name basis let alone a nickname basis and he would not choose that nickname out of all of them and fuck this whole "uncrowned kings" thing because he does not want to be associated with Mibuchi.

Mibuchi skips off to rejoin his middle school team and scores fifty points in his next match.

* * *

45\. Starry-Eyed (Imayoshi Shouichi/Kasamatsu Yukio, 199 wds, PG13)

"Whoa," says Kasamatsu when he steps out of the car. "Shit."

It's been a few years since he's been back in Kanagawa. What with Imayoshi's lack of seriousness toward packing and Kasamatsu's forgetfulness in times of stress they've managed to make this trip stretch a few hours too many and it's almost midnight by now (at least they've finally arrived).

Kasamatsu's pointing up at the stars with a beautiful look of transfixed enthusiasm. It's easy to forget the beauty of the stars in Tokyo, surrounded by white noise and white lights that shine onto the sky like those lights at the base of billboards, illuminating and blinding and casting out the stars. The crickets are chirping (it should be too late in autumn for this, but they're still going at it) and Kasamatsu leans on the hood of the car and throws his head back. Imayoshi flicks his neck (because, really, he should stop being such a tease and exposing it like that) and Kasamatsu jerks back and punches him in the abdomen (Imayoshi moves aside enough so that it's just a glancing blow that doesn't completely knock the wind out of him but it placates Kasamatsu all the same).

* * *

46\. Progress (Aomine Daiki/Murasakibara Atsushi, 229 wds, PG13)

Atsushi moves slowly, literally and metaphorically—he needs things explained two or three times sometimes, and he drags his feet even though with his long legs he should be able to cover twice the ground that Aomine does in half the time. Sometimes, Aomine can't tell if he's just having him repeat himself for his own entertainment (although he got the idea that Atsushi might be doing that from Tetsu, who'd suggested it with that odd little invisible Tetsu-specific smirk and Aomine wasn't really sure if he should take him seriously at first) because he stares at the way Aomine's mouth moves when he repeats himself, slowing down the syllables, and then kisses him in the middle of the explanation like he doesn't want to hear the rest. Aomine would like to assume that he's just too lazy to bother to hear it again—but who knows what goes on in that fucked-up mind of his?

Atsushi's been kissing him so long and hard he can't breathe and he breaks the kiss, half-shoving him away and panting (he should be more ready for these when they happen, shouldn't he?) and dizzy. Atsushi caresses his chin and tilts his face up. He's half-grinning and his face is flushed.

"You're cute, Dai-chin," he says before he leans in again to kiss away whatever of his breath Aomine has managed to catch.

* * *

47\. Clothes (Akashi Seijuurou/Midorima Shintarou, 85 wds, PG)

Akashi brushes the tiny pieces of lint from Midorima's jacket, the ones he hadn't realized were there, fingers brushing just a few millimeters of air away from the soft skin of his cheek. Akashi fixes his tie, adjusts it a micrometer to the left but does not release his hands from Midorima's throat. He looks him up and down, and then yanks down on the tie to bring Midorima's lips to his—even though it's a sudden move their lips meet softly and gracefully somehow.


	6. Chapter 6

48\. Breakfast (Susa Yoshinori/Aomine Daiki, 103 wds, PG)

Breakfast is burnt toast and coffee with skim milk. Aomine rifles through the fridge but can't find any butter or margarine or jam, and is about to grumble something to Susa about being a cheapskate when he looks at Susa, head leaning on his hand, stubble on his chin, plastic-framed glasses instead of contacts that are slipping down on his nose. He looks damn fine and for a second Aomine forgets his hunger. Then, of course, his stomach reminds him. Susa's hand moves; he's dipping his toast in the coffee.

Aomine can't see any better alternatives, so he tries it himself. Not bad.

* * *

49\. Cross-Dressing (Kuroko Tetsuya/Koganei Shinji, 164 wds, PG)

Kuroko's so tiny that anything in men's sizes is too long and too wide and fits awkwardly. The stuff in the kid's section is too awkward, and getting t-shirts tailored is too frivolous. Koganei's solution is to go to the ladies' department, and Kuroko stares at him like he's crazy.

"Koganei-kun, you cannot be serious."

Koganei widens his cat-smile and squeezes Kuroko's hand. Kuroko wants badly to withdraw it but for some reason doesn't. "Come on. Give it a try!"

Women's high-waist jeans are surprisingly comfortable. They're still a bit baggy, but the inseam is perfect and he likes the way they hug his calves. Of course, he keeps his expression neutral but years of reading Mitobe's nonverbal conversation cannot keep Koganei from finding out. At least he doesn't tell anyone, although Kuroko has to warn him several times before he's sure he won't.

"Secrets are fun, anyway," Koganei whispers, and there's no one around so the kiss he steals is another tiny secret.

* * *

50\. Hug (Imayoshi Shouichi/Himuro Tatsuya, 130 wds, PG)

Imayoshi is often difficult, and most of the time it's intentional. Himuro doesn't really care, ignores it and cuts through it with a mixture of icy stares, unflappability, and affection. Imayoshi will start to tease him or go off on a tangent and then Himuro will hug him from behind, not squeezing too tightly, place his head on Imayoshi's shoulder, kiss his cheek. It's never when Imayoshi's saying something that's actually important—then Himuro leans in closer, listens for every meaning of the words. He's very sharp, very observant—Imayoshi wouldn't like him if he wasn't, after all. Still, it's a bit unnerving how easily he distracts Imayoshi with his gestures, and how even though Imayoshi doesn't change his heartbeat or his expression Himuro knows exactly the effect he has.

* * *

51\. Bones (Murasakibara Atsushi/Kiyoshi Teppei, 294 wds, PG13)

Atsushi doesn't exactly understand it, but sometimes he feels an ache in his bones running deep and full of longing. He thinks about calling Teppei just to hear his voice, but that makes the ache run deeper and he's not sure what to do. No one really gets it—Himuro asks him what hurts and dotes on him and Liu tells him that's what he gets for slacking off during practice. Teppei gets it, of course, and he offers to come up to Akita but he doesn't have much money, does he? Himuro's always telling Atsushi to be conscious of others' fortunes.

He comes into Tokyo sometimes, but it's never enough, and it's usually with the rest of the team for a game. He tries to make time afterward, but there never is any. Even when Teppei comes to the games, there's no time afterward.

"I can't help but be greedy," Teppei says, standing on his tiptoes and placing those beautiful hands on Atsushi's face, leaning in for a kiss.

Atsushi's greedy, too. He doesn't want to spare any time for talk right now when these kisses are making the ache subside—not completely, but the only reason he wants to cry out now is because of the pleasure that has washed over him to replace the pain. He wants more, more, wants to be overtaken.

Eventually, Teppei pulls away. There will never, ever be enough time. Why can't he just crush time the way he crushes insects and weak players? He wants to make enough time, create a pocket for just them. He tries to express it, but has no idea how—Teppei understands the few words that come out, because he always does but that's not enough, either. Nothing is ever enough.

* * *

52\. Old (Momoi Satsuki/Araki Masako, 136 wds, PG)

Masako primps in front of the mirror every morning, rubs creams under her eyes and then waits ten minutes while putting foundation on her forehead, and then she adds concealer. She frowns at her hands and the small wrinkles forming on her wrists and Satsuki comes into the bathroom and rolls her eyes. Masako's so sensitive about her age even though Satsuki has told her time and time again that it doesn't actually matter, and she leans her forehead on Masako's back between her shoulder blades and holds her hands and tells her not to worry so much, that worrying will only give her more wrinkles (not that it matters, because wrinkles or not she's still strikingly beautiful). Masako scowls deeper and locks her out of the bathroom, but she gives Satsuki an extra-long goodbye kiss.

* * *

53\. Luminous or Something (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou, 245 wds, PG13)

Midorima's the kind of guy who just looks damn good in a yukata. He's got that rigid, old-fashioned look about him, not to mention he's hot to begin with. Still, a stuffy guy with long eyelashes and long fingers and green eyes looks great with the wind blowing back his hair and the fabric against his skin. (He wore contacts today; glasses somehow make the look unbalanced—but then again, Aomine's no fashion critic.)

Midorima looks better when the yukata is half-off and his chest and abs and one bicep are freed and his face has a sheen of sweat over it and he moans as Aomine's hands traverse his hands and it's half-dark but he's fucking luminous or something, pale skin that looks more like it's shining from within than reflecting any source of light and the tone of his muscles is so sharp and he whines when Aomine traces a finger over his abs and catches Aomine's hand in his, larger palm and longer fingers that are free of tape for once, nails all filed down to uniform length and God he is beautiful.

But he's completely gorgeous when he's naked and pinning Aomine down with his raw strength and his hair is plastered to his forehead and his lips are swollen because they've been kissed so much and his knees squeeze Aomine's waist and the yukata is lying somewhere crumpled on the floor because sometimes even Midorima forgets to be perfectly neat.

* * *

54\. Wrecked (Kawahara Kouichi/Kasuga Ryuuhei, 183 wds, PG13)

The skinhead kid says something about having seen him somewhere before but Kasuga's so wrecked right now he can't determine if he's being sincere or a pickup line so he kisses him anyway, and the kid's surprised but kisses him back so it doesn't matter because the end result is still the same. After that it's sort of a blur but he remembers the hands up his sides and the small mouth tentative on his neck and it's alright, not the best he's ever had but not the worst. The kid's apartment is shitty but he's got a pair of basketball shoes by the door and a picture in the living room of what looks like his middle school team. Kasuga's not in the right frame of mind to remember every team he played against way back when he was fourteen (is their age difference really two years? It must be.) and he's trying to loosen his belt right now but his fingers won't cooperate so he forgets all about the whole thing until he's long gone. He never got that kid's name.

* * *

55\. Vanilla (Hayama Kotarou/Takao Kazunari, 251 wds, PG)

Hayama comes by with a new excuse every time, and he seems not to care that Miyaji has retired from the team, even though the first five times he comes to practice that's all he can talk about. Takao starts to wonder if this was what Ootsubo meant when he talked about the trials of being captain and suddenly the next two years seem very, very long.

After he gets bored of talking about Miyaji, Hayama talks Takao's ear off about other subjects, and even he can't get a word in edgewise. Hayama also has zero concept of personal space; when Takao's doing drills or stretches Hayama is right there next to him. He realizes after a while that Hayama smells like vanilla, and the scent clings to him even after a shower (Nakatani-sensei refuses point-blank to let Hayama in the locker rooms).

It takes him a while to realize it's actually kind of comforting, the smell of vanilla and the increased air pressure around him from the wildly-gesturing hands. Hayama makes it easy to just turn around and kiss him, although the resulting silence is deafening (he'd thought for sure this guy would mumble into his mouth, but he seems completely dumbstruck) so Takao pulls away before he's fully satisfied.

Hayama immediately pulls him back, grabbing him so tightly he can barely breathe but it's nice to hear that wildly-pumping heart and feel the multitudde of return kisses Hayama presses into his hair and his forehead and onto his ears.

* * *

56\. Fishing (Imayoshi Shouichi/Susa Yoshinori, 169 wds, PG13)

Someone (who?) said that a bad day fishing is better than a good day at work. Susa's not sure if he'd agree; it's something that tries even his almost-infinite patience. He's always paranoid that he'll fall asleep and his rod will get dragged into the water. He knows it's irrational, but he can vividly picture Imayoshi laughing as the rod falls off and gets pulled away by some stupid fucking fish.

It's nice when Imayoshi gets hot and takes off his shirt and flexes his back muscles just so, in part because he knows it get Susa hot and bothered (but they don't do anything because what if a fish bites?) and then Susa doesn't really care if his rod goes into the water or breaks in two. It's also nice that they can just relax wordlessly, each thinking something to himself and letting his thoughts wander. It's pleasant, peaceful. Susa has to partially concede: a bad day fishing with Imayoshi is better than a good day at work.

* * *

57\. Fortitude (Takao Kazunari/Furihata Kouki, 152 wds, PG13)

Furihata is quiet but loud at the same time, mouth silent but jittering so fast he draws attention anyway, even when he's trying to curl into himself. It's especially hard for Takao when they're playing basketball, even when he's trying to set up a play or screen someone or get somewhere, he can't block out of his vision this person who's always vibrating, always moving, never calm (even so, hawk eyes are still worth it). Takao can't understand how he handles a basketball like that, but he's seen weirder things.

It only starts making sense when Furihata's hands are encircling his wrists and when the shaking mouth is at his throat, how light his touches really are, how much he keeps the basketball suspended in air, but that's about the extent to which he ever gets it, because he doesn't want to think about basketball when Furihata's hips are shaking against his.


	7. Chapter 7

58\. Frost (Nebuya Eikichi/Hanamiya Makoto, PG13, 133 wds)

Makoto lets the frost in, raises the windows and places planks on the sill to keep them from falling because the apartment is old and neither of them particularly enjoys dealing with people so they don't get it fixed. If his plan is to make Eikichi cold, then it's not working, because Eikichi's seriously dedicated to his physique and that means his circulation is great—he just doesn't get cold, especially when he's always got a hot bowl of food in his hands.

Makoto's cold, though, miserably so although he pretends otherwise, stubborn to more than a fault. Three times he throws off Eikichi's arm loosely draped around his shoulders, but the fourth he succumbs to the warmth, muttering something about muscle gorilla bastards while shuffling closer to Eikichi's radiator of a body.

* * *

 

59\. Honorable Mention (Alexandra Garcia/Himuro Tatsuya, PG13, 207 wds)

She wonders sometimes if she'll ever be more than an honorable mention in his life (if she was him she'd think thinking this way was the ultimate selfishness, which in a way it is but she's not going to be preoccupied with self-deprecation). There are people much more important to him, who time and again outweigh her—Taiga, his parents, maybe Atsushi (she's not so much a part of his life anymore, is she? There are people she won't ever know that are more important to him, most likely). She's greedy, but oh, well. He gives her hope, sometimes, too much hope—his insistence on her treating him like an adult, for one thing (he half-grew up too fast way before her eyes and she wants him to go on and do things properly; he's still only seventeen, damn it) but that might have to do with himself more than it does with her.

It's hard to think about somedays and maybes when she's thinking about him, because there's so much she doesn't know, about him and herself and these somedays and conditions for these maybes, so she just hangs back, occasionally giving him a nudge. He doesn't look back at her as often as she'd like.

* * *

 

60\. Doubt (Imayoshi Shouichi/Sakurai Ryou, PG, 107 wds)

Sakurai's unsure of everything: himself, others, inanimate objects, decisions. He wavers like an autumn leaf that's already a deep purple but hasn't quite fallen from the branch yet, holding on too long.

Sakurai doesn't doubt Imayoshi. He makes it clear, flips the switch quicker than Imayoshi thought was possible (Sakurai continues to surprise him, one of the many things about him that Imayoshi finds simply fascinating) and puts on a firmer seriousness. His eyes are steely and he shuts down Imayoshi, who's just been teasing him again.

"I have no reason to doubt you, sempai," he says. His gaze almost forces Imayoshi's eyes open.

* * *

 

61\. Adulthood (Okamura Kenichi/Fukui Kensuke, PG13, 161 wds)

Are they really adults? A number of years have passed since they first met at basketball tryouts, the only ones still going on Araki-sensei's obstacle course from hell, Okamura due to raw strength and Fukui due to sheer willpower. Yes, years have passed and they have jobs and pay bills and taxes and read newspapers and earn money—but they're not really adults, are they? Okamura's still incredibly sensitive and vain; Fukui still teases and tricks just for the hell of it. They're still together, too.

But this isn't really some childlike romance, some sugary teenage puppy-love affair. They'd just somehow ended up sleeping together, and somehow ended up doing it again and again and before long their relationship had just kind of evolved. There were never any shifty eyes or awkward confessions or love letters or blushingly-given chocolates or tiptoeing around feelings. It's comfortable, pleasant—not entirely dispassionate, though. It's a fine line they walk, hand in decidedly larger hand.

* * *

 

62\. Sweet (Hanamiya Makoto/Hara Kazuya, PG, 80 wds)

It's not that Hanamiya is ever wrong; it's just that…he expected something different. He expected Hara to taste sweet, like the powdery coating on the pink pellets of bubble gum he chews, but instead he tastes mind-numbingly bitter, like gum that has been chewed and chewed and chewed until it's almost hardened. It's not sweet at all, but it's better this way. Sweetness would be too much of a dissonance, a dissonance that he's prepared himself for but dissonance nonetheless.

* * *

 

63\. Water (Kuroko Tetsuya/Furihata Kouki, PG, 132 wds)

The first thing that Kuroko lends Furihata is a bottle of water; in return Furihata lends him a book he thinks Kuroko might like. It turns out to be a winner—Kuroko hasn't read it yet and enjoys it immensely. He thanks Furihata with a genuine smile and that day is the first one that Furihata is self-aware to realize that the subtle descent of his internal organs into a slushy mess at his feet might mean that he's falling in love with Kuroko a little bit.

The first time Kuroko kisses Furihata it's straightforward and on the lips, everything one would expect Kuroko's kiss to be. It's a few seconds long and he tastes slightly bittersweet. Furihata kisses him back sloppily and doesn't take the lead, but Kuroko couldn't care less.

* * *

 

64\. Falling Into Place (Kagami Taiga/Furihata Kouki, PG13, 168 wds)

It takes a while for them to understand each other—not that they aren't trying, but it's just that they don't expect to have to try. It's a while before Furihata stops finding Kagami's rude manner of speech so personally, and it's a while before Kagami learns to interpret all of Furihata's worried little glances—he's not looking up from the pages of his book pointedly to get Kagami to go away because he's passive-aggressive; he's looking up to make sure Kagami is still there. Eventually, Kagami sees the tiny smiles in those glances and if Kagami said the way Furihata bites his lower lip unconsciously doesn't get cuter every goddamn time, he'd be lying. The hammer of Furihata's heart against him and the way Kagami's too-often-awkward body seems to fit around Furihata's like a mold and the surprisingly strong grip are what make Furihata's hugs the best damn thing in the world except for maybe basketball, and even then Kagami's probably giving the game too much credit.

* * *

 

65\. Bite (Kiyoshi Teppei/Takao Kazunari, PG13, 104 wds)

Kazunari leaves tiny bite marks all over Teppei's chest and shoulders, little chomps that don't hurt as much as they just feel like something. He sucks on the bite marks and then kisses them, leaving marks that don't fade for a good while. There's never enough time to see each other, and the marks fade before they meet again almost without fail. Still, it's nice to take off his pajama shirt in the morning before he shaves and touch the red marks where the blood vessels burst underneath his skin and remember the feel of wet lips and small, sensitive fingers on his skin.

* * *

 

66\. Movie (Aomine Daiki/Seto Kentarou, PG13, 189 wds)

They fall asleep in the middle of the movie, TV still blaring sounds and epilepsy-inducing color flashes unbeknownst to the two boys whose bodies are smashed together awkwardly on the couch. When they wake up, the menu is on its umpteenth loop. They're too lazy to find the remote to turn it off, damn annoying as the musical theme repeating itself gets. Aomine's groping Seto's ass, wrist straining at this odd angle. Seto's not sure if he wants to go back to sleep or if he wants to keep going with Aomine, and although there's something inherently amusing about denying pleasure to his constantly horny boyfriend, well…fuck that. There's something (multiple somethings, actually) about their fumbling, sleepy couch sex that Seto enjoys, Aomine wincing as his elbow goes through the space between the pillows and hits the hard back of the couch and the way Aomine shifts in vain trying to get comfortable and the way his blue eyes dilate in the shadows and it's all too perfect and besides the best kind of sleep is post-sex sleep so he can afford to put it off for a bit.

* * *

 

67\. Tattoo (Susa Yoshinori/Midorima Shintarou, PG13, 236 wds)

Susa has a tattoo on his hip; the skin pulled taut over his bone is covered in some sort of awkward vaguely animal-ish thing, and the first time he sees it Midorima can't not stare openly. Susa's shirt is riding up on his torso and they're sitting half-awkwardly on Midorima's couch and the tension in the air is rising and drowning them at this point—but in all seriousness Midorima doesn't know what the fuck that thing is.

"It's a dragon," Susa says, spitting the words out like he doesn't want to feel them on his tongue.

Midorima squints; there's definitely something reptilian about it—but it really looks more like a lizard or a salamander. There's probably a story behind this that involves dubious needles and copious amounts of alcohol, but that's not really the point. The tattoo seems like a mistake drawn in pencil and smudged over by a horrible pink eraser that leaves only a strange stain behind, in its own way commonplace and unique to Susa at the same time.

Susa starts to pull on his shirt but Midorima reaches out a hand and closes it around Susa's wrist. Susa smirks and slides his hand down to intertwine his fingers with Midorima's. And then he pushes Midorima down and pins him between his legs and kisses him and it's a good few minutes until they get back on the subject of hips.

* * *

 

68\. In Five Years (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou, PG13, 214 wds)

Five years ago, they were classmates. They weren't on the best of terms and almost never spoke, as their basketball team was falling apart and their eyes were turned far in opposite directions. Five years ago, they would have most likely had identical reactions to anyone proposing that their relationship would end up the way it is now—violent opposition.

"I was such a dumbass," Aomine says, stretching his hands up. Even though Midorima's only about seven or eight centimeters taller, standing next to him makes Aomine conscious of the difference, of how much he has to tilt his head upward to see Midorima's eyes. Five years ago, he was at eye level.

"Was?"

Aomine drops his arm around Midorima's shoulders. It's a bit of a reach, but he can still do it (his arms are long, something he is quite thankful for sometimes). "You're the one who's still dumb."

Midorima folds his arms across his chest. How had Aomine spent three years of middle school seeing him every day and been completely in denial of how fucking cute Midorima's pouty expression is? Of course, Midorima himself seems totally unaware, too, and holy shit he's way too damn cute.

"Don't ever stop being dumb," Aomine says, leaning up to kiss those adorably frowning lips.

* * *

 

69\. Vulnerable (Aomine Daiki/Momoi Satsuki, PG13, 222 wds)

They've both had lots of practice pretending to be hardened and unfeeling, bearing down and bending but not breaking—and when they do break it's impossible for them to mend the same way as they were before. It's not necessarily bad; everyone changes—still, though, no one sees him when he is at his most vulnerable. He's good at shutting out the pain, good at putting himself in denial, good at building up walls with his strong arms and willpower.

She tears it all down in a heartbeat but does not look at him with pity or scorn or revulsion, only with acceptance and a helping hand. He has become so much bigger than her, but she is still strong enough and then some to pick him up and pull him along for a little while, under the condition that he'll be able to stand on his own at some point because she can't pull him along forever. Even if she could, she wouldn't. He wouldn't want her, too, anyway—not because of some dumb macho pride thing (it's goddamn useless trying to act proud around her most of the time) but because they'll both be miserable if she doesn't put herself first sometimes. Luckily for them, she's not some damn selfless shoujo heroine, one of the many reasons he loves her.

* * *

 

70\. Special Kind of Hell (Aomine Daiki/Murasakibara Atsushi, PG13, 187 wds)

Murasakibara's eyes are heavy; they flutter uselessly against the back of Aomine's neck. Neither of them has much of a reason to stay awake—well, homework, sure, or the end of this basketball game on television, but neither of those is really that important. They're together, and they end up asleep way too often in the tiny slivers of time that they get with each other, but they rest easier when they're being held in warm arms, both of them.

He nuzzles Aomine's neck, placing a dry-lipped kiss on his shoulder and mumbling something incoherent. It's too early for them to be this tired; they didn't do all that much today. And they're falling asleep on the floor, awkwardly positioned with Aomine in Murasakibara's lap. They're going to wake up too sore to move, Aomine tells himself, and he tries to will himself to get up, but there's really no point. It's not going to work. They'll just fall asleep like this and wake up in a few hours and fall into bed even more awkwardly tangled and the morning will be a special kind of hell.


	8. Chapter 8

71\. Night (Murasakibara Atsushi/Midorima Shintarou, 196 wds, T)

It shouldn't be this hot at night; it's November. Nevertheless, it's humid and sticky and everything the middle of autumn ought not to be. Of course, it hardly slows down Atsushi's appetite; he eats candy apples that were on sale at the drug store and he's plowing through cartons of special holiday gingerbread Maiubo. Shintarou generally feels vaguely nauseous and also kind of lazy. It's not the stale, stagnant summer haze nor is it the bitter, dark wind of winter. It's a different kind of lazy—and that's not even the proper word, really. Being under cover of the navy sky when all the windows are open and the slightest breeze reverberates around them both stirs something inside of Shintarou.

Evidently, Atsushi is affected as well, although he hasn't shown anything outwardly until now. His affections, always very physical, are different, more delicate, the way he slides his palm under Shintarou's shirt and rubs his back lightly and the softly almost tense (is that even possible? Is it an oxymoron?) expression on his face as Shintarou brushes the crumbs from his cheeks. His lips and tongue are as raw and needy and hungry as ever, though.

* * *

72\. Hair Dye (Liu Wei/Himuro Tatsuya, 521 wds, T)

Sometimes Himuro's glad his boyfriend is an incredibly stubborn guy. He makes Himuro try things he's not open to sometimes, and that raw determination is what makes him a damn good basketball player. He will absolutely not let anyone score on him, utilizing his ridiculous wingspan efficiently to block everything or knock the ball out of an opponent's hands, and he's surprisingly quick for such a big guy and refuses to cede possession to the other team. His hands are capable.

In other matters, however, Liu's unwillingness to compromise or listen to reason can be very vexing. Once an idea is in his head, he won't give it up, and for some reason he wants to bleach his hair blonde. He won't go to the salon and get it done because Fukui "warned" him about the dangers of salons in Akita (at least he never lets Fukui cut his hair, preferring to trim it himself every few weeks—sometimes he lets Himuro do it because even with his long arms, reaching around to the back of his neck is difficult. Himuro enjoys trimming off the small strands, not even a quarter of an inch, and then kissing the back of Liu's neck—it's not actually exposed all that much more than it already was, but when he's shirtless and Himuro's standing on tiptoe to get a better angle and it's easy to move down to kissing the smooth muscles on Liu's back). He enlists Himuro's help, enticing him with kisses and promises that it'll be quick and fun and doesn't he want to see Liu with blonde hair.

He doesn't. Liu's hair is such a pretty shade of brown. It might be Himuro's favorite of Liu's physical features, along with his eyes and his back muscles and his lith arms and his legs that go on forever and, okay, Himuro just loves all of him. Still, he's heard that bleaching hair makes it hard and dry and frizzy, and Liu's hair is ridiculously soft and smooth. He knows he's being selfish, and he can't actually picture Liu with blonde hair so he might actually look hot like that. So, in the end, he caves.

Murasakibara is fascinated by the idea and watches them at first, sitting on the sink with his standard box of Maiubou in his hand. Once he finishes the snacks, he leaves, though, declaring it boring. It is, kind of, tediously repetitive and involving quite a lot of waiting. Liu is a lot less self-conscious after Murasakibara leaves, though, passing the time by turning his full attention to Himuro's body while both of them are careful not to dislodge the clips in Liu's hair or the towel around his shoulders. Eventually, Liu gives up when his hair has reached a rusty goldenrod shade, because it's too damn long of a wait. It looks very bright and unnatural, but it doesn't really look bad. They rinse the peroxide from Liu's hair and since they're wet already they just keep the shower on and get in to release the heavy tension that's been building up through the long wait.

* * *

73\. Midnight (Liu Wei/Himuro Tatsuya, 245 wds, T)

They've barely registered the late hour in their minds, that the date has slid over and another sheet needs to be torn off the calendar. The constant practicing has warped their senses of time. When does it begin? When does it end? Are school and sleep just breaks from basketball? Liu's writing the drills and plays in the margins of his class notes; Himuro dreams of fingertips releasing rubber balls, of passes and shots and steals and dribbles. Both of them have high awareness of their surroundings; unseen opponents who are really just students running to the chapel or the cafeteria or their next class approach and they spin on the heels of their loafers.

Midnight is a time reserved just for the two of them, when the rise and fall of their chests has not become rhythmic quite yet and they've long since washed the sweat from their bodies. The radiator whistles and the cars drive by outside and the wind sighs and stirs the brittle tree branches. The two boys shift their weights gradually; Liu wraps himself around Himuro like a chrysalis and Himuro breathes in the faint scent of Liu's coconut body wash and sighs. It's pleasant. Liu's t-shirt is old and soft from being washed 13 times too many and his chest is warm and firm. His heartbeat is slow and steady and comforting, and Himuro's not sure if he wants to fall asleep or remain in this half-drowsy state forever.

* * *

74\. Stargazing (Liu Wei/Himuro Tatsuya, 243 wds, K+)

There are so many stars in Akita, it's impossible to count them. You lose track. They're infinite, but in no discernible pattern, just randomly scattered like glitter across a dark cloth. They're both transfixed by this magical sight above them, the type of sky that each of them once only existed in picture books.

Supposedly, there aren't that many stars here. There are other places, places in the countryside, that according to their teammates are way more starry. This, to them, is nothing. This, to them, is a disappointment.

Growing up in the city, most of the lights in the sky turn out to blink and move and are really airplanes. Some of them are so dim that it's impossible to find them again after looking away.

Liu flops down on the grass and pulls Himuro down next to him. He doesn't let go of Himuro's hand. Himuro coughs and Liu whips his head to the side and glares.

"Fukui-sempai told me that it's an ancient Japanese legend that if you count 700 stars you get to make a wish."

The utter gravity with which he says this makes Himuro's heart melt just a tiny bit. "What are you going to wish for?"

This time, Liu doesn't glare. "I don't know."

A few seconds of silence pass. Liu rolls on top of Himuro and pins him to the ground. Why waste time wishing when what you want is right in front of you?

* * *

75\. Clouds (Imayoshi Shouichi/Aomine Daiki, 140 wds, T)

Imayoshi joins him on the roof for lunch, lets Aomine steal some of his bento even though he's already eaten the delicious one Sakurai made for him and Imayoshi seems even thinner than usual. Aomine knows the smirk Imayoshi's giving him says "I have half a mind to stop you but I won't because I'm feeling in a generous mood" but he'll take what he can get, which in this case is more rice.

Imayoshi makes a stupid comment about the clouds, which is code for "kiss me, dumbass" and Aomine can't help but oblige. He allows himself a grin because he's actually learning Imayoshi's stupid double-meaning code but then Imayoshi's somehow gotten him pinned to the rooftop and snarls in his ear, "really?" and that could be in response to any number of things so Aomine just gives up.

* * *

76\. Irregular Orbit (Hayama Kotarou/Miyaji Kiyoshi, 167 wds, T)

Hayama moves in such a goddamn irregular orbit, circling closely around Miyaji and squealing incoherently one moment and running off who-the-hell-knows-where the next, and Miyaji really can't keep up. He feels like he might be too old for this, but he's not some old geezer. He's got what, a year on Hayama? That's nothing. And he's seriously tried throwing things at Hayama to just get him to keep still but he fucking moves away and giggles like it's some kind of game or something.

Finally, the next time he runs up to Miyaji and hugs him, Miyaji holds him a vice grip to keep him from going anywhere so they can just try and carry on an actual fucking conversation for once. Of course, that backfires and Hayama is blushing madly and spouting nonsense about how caring Miyaji is and how his hugs are so wonderful and it's not a hug, damn it!

It only occurs to him much later that he's fallen right into Hayama's trap.

* * *

77\. Untitled (Hanamiya Makoto/Kuroko Tetsuya, 358 wds, T) NOTE: Kiridai!Kuroko

"Whoops. I'm so sorry, Tetsuya-kun. I'm afraid I'm rather clumsy today." The words are hissed in a whisper, for Hanamiya's mouth is inches away from his ear as Hanamiya has landed perfectly on top of Kuroko. Even if Kuroko did not know him, he would be inclined to be suspicious of these words, because no clumsy person would have accidentally fallen against him in such a way to pin Kuroko to the ground between his carefully-placed legs. (As it is, Hanamiya moves so gracefully, befitting his slippery personality. Yamazaki once compared him to an oil slick, and Kuroko finds that this simile works rather well, especially when it comes to certain aspects of Kuroko's relationship with Hanamiya—details of which Kuroko's fairly certain Yamazaki doesn't really want to know about.)

Kuroko sighs and moves his head up a few millimeters, and his ear is closer to Hanamiya's warm breath. (He's not yet too fed up to play Hanamiya's games today. Yet.) The books are scattered all over the floor, and he'd organized them by author, too. (Hara says the only reason Hanamiya trips up Kuroko so often is so he can watch him pick things up, and the way he stares at Kuroko's ass is really creepy. Seto always responds with "It's not creepy if they're going out" but Kuroko doesn't really care because he stares at Hanamiya's ass, too, and all's fair in love and war. Kuroko can't help having misdirection on his side.)

Hanamiya raises a thick eyebrow and meets Kuroko's lips with his. He tastes, as usual, of bitter chocolate and his tongue is so demanding that Kuroko sighs again. Hanamiya sits up, directly on top of Kuroko's groin, and he knows exactly what he's doing, of course.

"You should probably pick up those books," Hanamiya says.

Well, the least Kuroko can do is give him a show while he picks them up. It makes him feel a bit ridiculous, but Hanamiya's flush when he turns around is completely worth it, and so is the deeper, needier kiss he receives a few seconds later, even if his head is pressed up against a metal bookshelf.

* * *

78\. What the Hell (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou, 289 wds, T)

He wakes up to the smell of Aomine's generic laundry detergent all around him; he can't see a damn thing and his arm is trapped under a still-very-much-asleep Aomine so the glasses are not an option right now. His feet are sore from wearing geta all of last night and he's wearing Aomine's clothes, which feel alien on his skin, far softer than he's used to. and a different fit than he likes, even for pajamas. Midorima leans closer into Aomine's face, squinting to try and see more than just a fuzzy outline. His vision's still not perfectly clear, but he can tell Aomine's smiling.

Aomine's eyes flutter open and he jerks backward, banging his head against the headboard. The smile is replaced by a scowl and he roughly pushes Midorima's head away. "What the hell, Shin?"

"I couldn't put on my glasses because someone was sitting on my arm."

Aomine snorts. "You picked me up last night."

"I didn't want to wake you up."

"Well that worked real well, didn't it?"

Midorima huffs and yanks his arm out from under Aomine, finally grabbing his glasses and placing them on his face. He immediately regrets it—how the hell can Aomine look this attractive first thing in the morning with bedhead and stubble and a rumpled shirt?

Of course, Aomine sees right through him, smiles again, and pulls him over to the other side of the bed. "I'm going to get a bruise on my head, so you owe me," he says, pressing his hands down against Midorima's upper thighs. "Plus, you look really hot in my clothes."

Before Midorima can say anything, Aomine's mouth is on his, and shitty morning breath and all he doesn't want to stop.

* * *

79\. Fixation (Murasakibara Atsushi/Midorima Shintarou, 140 wds, T)

Murasakibara's attention is easily diverted, but it can sometimes stay fixated on one specific thing for hours at a time—rather like that of a small child. Midorima won't hesitate to say he's childish most of the time (he can't bother to brush the crumbs off his sweater most of the time, or really bother very much at all about his appearance, much to Midorima's chagrin) but in this case, when Murasakibara's fingers are running up and down the rippling muscles of Midorima's arms, he's rather conscious of the fact that neither of them is exactly a child. (Technically, they're minors, but they're definitely on the tail end of adolescence.)

It doesn't seem to be particularly erogenous for Murasakibara—but then he sort of flips a switch and his hands start roaming everywhere, but who even knows with this guy?

* * *

80\. Similarities (Aomine Daiki/Wakamatsu Kousuke, 155 wds, T)

Aomine and Wakamatsu don't get it, both looking at Sakurai with an angry but quizzical expression because seriously, who is he to tell them that they're similar? Then they start yelling and Sakurai cringes and hides and covers his ears and Momoi comes and bails him out before he gets too fed up and starts yelling back—but their shouts are the same frequency and are about to shatter his eardrums with their combined intensity. There's no way they can see it.

It's kind of funny, though, how totally in love they are with each other (neither will admit it at this stage of the game, for some misplaced fear of weakness) and for all the subtle touches on arms and glaringly obvious smoldering stares, the most egocentric person Sakurai has ever met, Aomine "the only one who can defeat me is me" Daiki has fallen for someone who's almost exactly like him. It's perfect.

* * *

81\. Wine (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou, 209 wds, T)

Aomine's not a big fan of red wine. It tastes disgusting (pretentious snobs can blab all they want about "citrus notes" but he personally thinks it's bullshit) and drinking two glasses pretty much puts him to sleep. Midorima, on the other hand, drinks it because it's "classy" and "good for your heart". Considering some of the bizarre, tacky "lucky items" Midorima's carried around, he can't really say he's classy, and considering how much he carefully watches what he eats and does all of those ridiculous exercises and has no family history of heart disease, he has nothing to worry about. But then again, it's Midorima.

Aomine should probably be grateful that Midorima lets himself get tipsy from anything because it's so bizarre, so when Midorima brings home a bottle Aomine doesn't roll his eyes too much and has about half a glass while Midorima drinks two and midway through his third he starts giggling and blushing redder than the baseline alcohol-induced flush on his cheeks. He climbs into Aomine's lap (he's really too big for it, all that muscle mass on his already large frame is goddamn heavy) and promptly falls asleep with a sappy smile on his face.

Damn, Midorima's going to be so hungover in the morning.

* * *

82\. Tipsy (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou, 399 wds, M)

Midorima laces his fingers in between Aomine's and grins down at him. Aomine can't help but smile back—Midorima's just buzzed enough to let his affectionate side out. While he's pretty cute sometimes under normal circumstances (the way he pouts and denies the obvious should not look this adorable, especially on someone this tall) there's nothing like the way he positively beams when Aomine squeezes his hand.

His lips, slightly parted and wet from the wine, are tantalizingly close, tantalizingly beautiful, and Aomine leans up and kisses them. Midorima deepens the kiss, eager to take the initiative, and his usual taste of cinnamon gum and clove cigarettes is altered by the strong overtones of sour wine. They break, and Midorima is flushed and his smile is wider. His heart is beating erratically against Aomine's shoulder and he's half-nuzzling Aomine's neck. Aomine's free hand gropes Midorima's ass and Midorima moans and relaxes his body, presses his body even closer against Aomine's and he's hard already, and Aomine doesn't care that they're in the kitchen with the only available surfaces hard granite counters, he just wants to fuck Midorima right then and there.

Midorima's thinking along those lines, sort of jerks his head in the direction of the hallway and starts walking. Aomine follows, indiscreetly watching Midorima's ass (not like he'll notice, and even if he does he's not going to be mad) and is very grateful that Midorima is wearing a shirt right now because he definitely couldn't handle it if he had to deal with those rippling back muscles, too.

Within a few minutes of entering the bedroom, Midorima's a quivering mess, cheeks redder than pomegranates, swollen lips and sweat-slick skin, heavy eyes and gorgeous lashes no longer hidden behind thick glass, firmly toned muscles of his thighs, rock-hard cock pulsing in Aomine's hand. God, he's beautiful;

Even as Aomine lightly touches Midorima's cock, he moans and it's not some type of overblown drama thing (even in his most affectionate stages of drunkenness, Midorima's not prone to hamming it up) and the way his face screws up is so hot that Aomine feels a bit light-headed for a second. Midorima's so close already that this is probably as far as they'll get, a sloppy half-clothed hand job, but Aomine's okay with this. If Midorima keeps moaning and moving his legs like this, he won't have any trouble getting off.

* * *

83\. Delight (Kagami Taiga/Takao Kazunari, 193 wds, T)

They stay up late playing video games in the basement on what is technically Takao's sister's PlayStation, fighting games and strategy games and sports games and everything else, and they fall asleep on top of each other, one controller smushed against Kagami's cheek and leaving an imprint that makes Takao giggle, and then he traces it with his finger and Kagami sucks in his breath so fast he almost coughs. Takao's hair is sticking out in all different directions and his hawk eyes are sleepy and his shirt is twisted and Kagami's kind of hungry and Takao's hipbones fit neatly into his hands.

* * *

84\. Game (Hanamiya Makoto/Kuroko Tetsuya, 357 wds, T) NOTE: Kiridai!Kuroko

No matter how good you are, you're never perfect. No matter how well your ideas are implemented, there's always room for improvement. The spider web, Hanamiya and Seto's go-to play, works exceedingly well, but they don't win the cup despite executing it perfectly every time. The long offseason drags on, giving Hanamiya ample time to brood and experiment. None of his players are smart enough—but intelligence isn't the only issue. What with the insane, highly specialized skills Hanamiya knows that certain high school basketball players possess, someone here ought to have something. No one has the exact combination of quickness and reach; no one has perfect instinct. He can train them as much as he likes, but those things are innate. They can only be developed so far from nothing.

Then, fate delivers him a gift in the form of one Kuroko Tetsuya. (Like he'd say that, dumbass. He doesn't believe in that shit.) Misdirection is the perfect addition to the spiderweb. It's confusing and it's distracting. Their opponents stumble and fall, diving desperately for the ball and falling awkwardly, spraining a wrist or an ankle, bruising a knee, as it seemingly changes direction in midair. Then, of course, they take Kuroko out and the confusion continues. They don't know where or when or if the ball will change direction, not that they can keep up with Hanamiya and Seto's rapid fire.

They're so far ahead now that they can sub back in the second string. Seto puts his mask back on; Hara adds another stick of gum to his mouth; Yamazaki towels off his neck; Furuhashi chugs half a bottle of water. Kuroko is still standing up, so Hanamiya gropes his ass (after all, it's right there in front of him, perfect and round and if Hanamiya issued him shorts that were a bit too small, well—it was for a good cause, especially because he knows no one will be looking at Tetsuya but him because no one else can see him that well). Kuroko turns around to stare at him, but Hanamiya just smiles.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Tetsuya-kun?"

* * *

85\. Determination (Hayakawa Mitsuhiro/Kobori Kouji, 107 wds, K+)

Hayakawa approaches everything with the same kind of fierce determination, from basketball to schoolwork to karaoke, and love is no exception. Kobori had planned to show up ten minutes early to their first date but Hayakawa's there already, and his eyes light up when he sees Kobori and there's none of that stereotypical first-date awkwardness. (Hayakawa wouldn't know awkwardness if it punched him in the gut.) He grabs Kobori's hand and smiles, his whole face turning up in an earnest grin before he starts talking a mile a minute and tugging on Kobori's arm because there's so much to do today and he's so excited about it.

* * *

86\. Partake (Mibuchi Reo/Himuro Tatsuya, 210 wds, T)

Tatsuya looks so beautiful sometimes and he doesn't even realize, blinking up from his seat on the couch, slim shoulders draped so perfectly, collarbones jutting out, not a hair out of place. Reo thinks about beauty constantly, studies art and design and fashion and he blows away the most striking models and priceless sculptures. The small flaws, the beauty mark on his face and the small scar on the inside of his wrist that's barely visible unless you're looking closely, only make him more beautiful, the subtle cracks in the ice, the perfect blemishes. His neck is long and graceful and Reo can't help but be more than a little envious—he puts on muscle too quickly and scars way too easily and always has acne on his back and too many discolored spots in his skin that are too light or too dark. He could spend hours critiquing his own physical flaws, but that's pointless when he can bask in the steady glow of this beauty. Tatsuya won't share his beauty with just anyone, gives guarded stares and usually only gives a little at a time. Reo leans over the back of the couch and steals a kiss, grabbing at some of that beauty, and Tatsuya intertwines their hands.

* * *

87\. Withdrawal (Nijimura Shuuzou/Aomine Daiki, 200 wds, T)

Nijimura snuffs out Aomine's cigarettes with his bare hands, absently picking at the callouses from the burns until the redness fades but Aomine's guilt is pulsing as brightly as ever. Even when he's at work and Nijimura is halfway across town, he can't bear to light it up anymore, though he won't admit it. Even when he feels like he might actually die from the pain of withdrawal and he can't concentrate because of the rolling in his stomach and the desire that has seized his brain, the force of his guilt overwhelms all of that. Besides, Nijimura holds his head when he pukes and tells him he's a stupid brat who shouldn't kill himself slowly, even as his voice catches in his throat. He's gripping Aomine's short hair so hard his scalp hurts, but Aomine doesn't complain. One of his hands somehow finds Nijimura's through the dizziness, and he doesn't knock it away or tell him to move and that's enough for now. (Nijimura refuses to kiss him afterwards until he brushes his teeth ten times, and for a second Aomine thinks that they could be back in middle school with this exchange—but things have changed too much.)


	9. Chapter 9

88\. Together (Ootsubo Taisuke/Miyaji Kiyoshi, 160 wds, K+)

It's not that Miyaji is embarrassed that they're in public holding hands together. He grabs his hand away and blushes, but that has nothing to do with anyone watching. When they're alone, he's even more embarrassed. He's not used to having this much of this kind of attention, and it makes him extremely uncomfortable when Ootsubo caresses his cheek or kisses his forehead or settles Miyaji into his arms, and his knee-jerk reaction (as it is with everything) is to pull away and yell.

Ootsubo learns to grab his hand and intertwine their fingers loosely while staring straight ahead, to pull Miyaji closer on the couch when he's busy changing the channel on the TV, to say something romantic while he's looking at his phone. Miyaji still occasionally mutters things under his breath that Ootsubo pretends not to hear, but he weaves their fingers tighter and hugs Ootsubo back and fits an "I love you" or two into his mutterings.

* * *

89\. Surface (Kiyoshi Teppei/Takao Kazunari, 157 wds, K+)

The surface of the water is still. A ripple rings out; a fish looks up at them balefully.

"I got nothing for you," says Kazunari. The fish looks skeptical but dives back down and swims away.

Kazunari's fingers worm their way in between Teppei's. They're surprisingly cool for someone who exercises more than enough to get good circulation, but that's the nature of autumn. He's still so small compared to Teppei, so small that a touch of cold affects him more. His breath condenses as he huffs; a flush unrelated to the weather spreads across his cheeks.

Teppei pulls Kazunari onto his lap. The vibrations might be scaring the fish (or they might be drawing them; heaven knows these fish love to beg for food) but Teppei doesn't really mind. They can wait. It'll be better when Kazunari's breath is condensing under Teppei's chin and his arm is pressed around Teppei's back and they both feel warm.

* * *

90\. Knitting (Ootsubo Taisuke/Takao Kazunari, 380 wds, K+)

Taisuke smiles; the rhythmic clacking of the knitting needles always relax him after a long day (there is less and less sunlight, but the days seem longer and he doesn't know why). He reaches the end of the row, stops, yanks out some more yarn from the middle of the dwindling skein, and flips the needles. His long fingers weave the needles in and out of the yarn steadily, and he begins to hum under his breath.

"Taisuke-san…"

He doesn't bother to look up. "Yes?"

"Whatcha doing?"

He rolls his eyes. His hand slips; a needle slips and almost scrapes the last stitch off the end of the second. "What does it look like?"

"Not paying attention to me." Kazunari scoots closer on the couch and leans his head on Taisuke's shoulder.

"Weren't you doing a crossword?" Kazunari's head on his shoulder, while not too heavy, is not something he's used to while he's knitting. It throws off his balance and he nearly drops another stitch. Taisuke frowns.

"Crosswords are boring," Kazunari whines, worming a thin hand between Taisuke's elbow and his side.

Taisuke's only reply to this is a heavy sigh. He continues to knit and reaches the end of the row, drawing more yarn and flipping the needles once again. Kazunari taps his fingers against Taisuke's upper arms. It's nothing he can't handle. They remain silent as Taisuke finishes the row and pulls out more yarn. He begins the next row but drops all of the first three stitches when Kazunari speaks, interrupting his new rhythm.

"You know," Kazunari says as Taisuke tries hard to make sure it doesn't unravel further. "You're almost at the end of your yarn."

Taisuke's hand slips again, and finally he turns his head to meet Kazunari's amused eyes.

"Fine, you win," Taisuke says, and kisses him square on the mouth. He lets his knitting drop to the floor (he'll worry about tangles in the yarn later) and pulls Kazunari onto his lap. Kazunari's hands are already tugging on the fabric of Taisuke's shirt—he really is greedy, but then again Taisuke is, too. Kazunari's fingers graze his neck and he can feel his heartbeat accelerate and maybe he'll just have to concede that Kazunari is more worthy of attention than a scarf.

* * *

91\. Present (Takao Kazunari/Hanamiya Makoto, 299 wds, T)

To say that Takao looks delighted when he sees Hanamiya waiting for him outside the school after practice would probably be an understatement—overjoyed is perhaps a more appropriate term.

"Mako-chan!" he shouts, throwing his arms around the scowling boy who goes limp like a ragdoll cat in the embrace.

"You kept me waiting," Hanamiya says primly, dusting off his jacket.

"But you waited for me," Takao says, intertwining their hands. "So, did you get me a present?"

"Yes, I did," Hanamiya says, lips turning up and white teeth glinting as he pulls out something from his school bag. It's a chocolate bar. Takao grabs at it, but Hanamiya snatches his hand away.

"Like I'd do that, dumbass." He tries to hold the chocolate bar out of reach, but Takao's the same height as he is, and very quick. He manages to bat it out of Hanamiya's fingers momentarily, but Hanamiya pulls it back into his own hand, and Takao curses Hanamiya's skill level. Apparently, he can steal chocolate bars just as well as he can steal basketballs.

Well. Takao's not entirely out of options yet. He kisses Hanamiya softly, tenderly, and the utter shock and contrast of this to their normal rough, bruising meeting of the mouths is enough to make his fingers loosen and he drops the chocolate. Takao picks it up (not before Hanamiya can bite down on his lip hard enough to draw blood) and stows it in his bag.

Hanamiya glares and crosses his arms. Takao doesn't really care.

"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me," he chants as they walk back to his house. Hanamiya punches him in the gut about a third of the way home but otherwise pointedly ignores him. No matter. Nothing can keep the smile from his face.

* * *

92\. Yukata (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou, 232 wds, T)

"Midorima-kun, that yukata really suits you," Kuroko says. Midorima starts in surprise and almost drops his lucky item. Receiving a compliment from Kuroko is rare, even if it isn't related to his basketball or his personality.

"Yeah, Midorimacchi, it really brings out your eyes," Kise says.

Murasakibara gives him a thumbs up and Akashi nods and hints at a smile.

Aomine, the only one who hasn't indicated anything, is turned away, arms crossed.

"What's the matter, Aominecchi? Jealous? You look good, too."

Aomine glares at Kise and wrap his arm around Midorima's waist. "Don't look at him like that."

Kuroko shoots Aomine a withering look. Kise grins. Midorima rolls his eyes but doesn't remove Aomine's arm until his hand begins wandering a bit too far down as they walk.

"What?" Aomine says.

"We're in public," Midorima says.

Ahh, fuck, he's pouting his lips now. "You're so damn irresistible," Aomine says and leans up to kiss him.

"You just have no self-control." Midorima places a hand over Aomine's lips.

"I don't want anyone looking at you like that," Aomine says again and grabs Midorima's hand.

"Do you think I'd ever look at anyone else?" Midorima asks.

He seems to only halfway know what he's doing. Damn him. Aomine holds up his paper fain in front of his face. "There. Privacy." He smashes their lips together. This will have to make do for now.

* * *

93\. During Battle (Imayoshi Shouichi/Momoi Satsuki, 167 wds, T)

During battle, he is a monster, bared fangs and hidden daggers and cold analysis and sweat pouring from his flesh, wiry limbs clutching at basketballs and tearing out opponent's hearts and leaving them to bleed out on the floor. During battle, she is a machine, fingers never straying from her pen and clipboard, analyzing and crunching numbers faster than a computer, stopping opponents in their paths before they realize what path they're on.

After battle, they withdraw somewhat, unwilling to hide their immense intellects completely but also unable to see any reason to overextend themselves in everyday life. They clean up, adjust themselves, but sinister scars remain. They're visible to those who look close, and of course both of them are keen observers—they see each other with critical eyes and do not turn away and wince from flaws. Subtle imperfections make it easier for them to join in embraces and touches; skin is warped to accept skin and fingers to move through hair that flows in tangled threads.

* * *

94\. Lipstick Marks (Mibuchi Reo/Himuro Tatsuya, 196 wds, T)

Reo wears lipstick all the time, even when they're not going anywhere and spending lazy days off together just enjoying each other's company. He leaves marks on the top of his favorite light blue coffee mug and the side of Tatsuya's neck where he places quick kisses and the jagged edges of the newspapers he reads and then presses against his mouth absentmindedly.

Tatsuya doesn't really mind; the newspapers can be thrown out and the mugs cleaned and he's come to enjoy the greasy red spots on his skin, the feel and the look—it's intimate, but it's immensely satisfying in another way that he can't explain quite as easily. The marks leave behind the shape of Reo's lips and if Tatsuya thinks hard enough he can imagine the pressure of that mouth (sometimes it actually is Reo, kissing the same spot twice and wrapping his arms around Tatsuya from behind). He's Reo's coffee, Reo's newspaper—things Reo will never give up, things that make him feel comfortable and secure and happy.

(Some of these days, Tatsuya ends up with lipstick all over his face because even Reo gets sloppy sometimes. Tatsuya doesn't mind that either.)

* * *

95\. Argument (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou, 549 wds, T)

It's probably his fault, now that he thinks about it. It's not one of those things for which Midorima passive-aggressively pushes the blame on his shoulders; it's really his fault. (When it comes to the serious things, which this most definitely is, Midorima takes his share of the blame and sometimes a little of Aomine's, too, but in this matter it's really not right for Aomine to not find himself the one who's most at fault. This shouldn't be a blame game, though. That's not even the issue here.)

The trouble is, he's been thinking about it, been thinking about it for blocks and blocks as his feet stomp the pavement and his eyes finally turn up and it's been a hell of a lot more blocks than he's realized and it's cold and it's dark and he suddenly feels very, very drained.

He knows his words cut through Midorima's skin—Midorima can carefully construct walls around himself and Aomine just has a knack for kicking them over and slicing through them, cutting deep to Midorima's core and finding the most sensitive parts and slashing at them and he knows when he's doing it, too; he knows when his words hit home but he just can't stop, keeps barreling through like a train with no emergency brake.

He's fucked up, big time. (At least now he doesn't need Satsuki to tell him. But shit, self-awareness is a bitch. The guilt is gnawing at him harder and harder, louder and louder like a mouse gnawing on a cracker, piercing the night air around him.)

(-)

The lights are off in the foyer when he gets home. He hangs up his coat quietly and tiptoes through the hall into the living room. The corner lamp is on, and Midorima sits on the couch. He's asleep, glasses askew on his nose. Even at rest, his mouth and brows are creased in a frown.

Aomine sits down next to him, lowering his weight gradually but to no avail. Midorima stirs, frowns harder, blinks. He makes a move to get up, but Aomine touches his hand. He's about to clasp Midorima's wrist, but thinks the better of it. (He's in no position to be too pushy.)

"I'm really, really sorry," Aomine says.

Midorima looks away and begins to get up again. Fuck. This isn't one of those times (and there have been some of those times) when Aomine is saying sorry because he doesn't know what he's done or doesn't think he's done anything and just wants to placate Midorima or get in his pants—he wants Midorima to stop looking like that, to stop feeling like that; he wants to heal the hurt he's caused even if he can't entirely repair it, because the sooner he stitches up these wounds the sooner the scars will fade and yeah, Aomine's a dick who doesn't deserve a guy like Midorima but that's even more of a reason that he just can't lose him.

(-)

Midorima is holding Aomine tightly against him when Aomine wakes up. His face is pressed against Aomine's neck and their legs are tangled and it's still not completely okay yet but it will be because they both need each other and that's enough to bridge the gaps and fill the cracks.

* * *

96\. Blanket (Imayoshi Shouichi/Aomine Daiki, 100 wds, T)

Imayoshi steals the covers because he's a conniving, passive-aggressive bastard and Aomine knows it but he can't steal them all the way back which he totally wants to, because Imayoshi's grip is so tight and the only solution is to move so close that his torso is basically pressed against Imayoshi's back and there's kind of no use in not spooning him after he grabs enough of the blanket to cover himself. Every time, Aomine swears he can hear a contented noise (not a sigh, Imayoshi never sighs) from his partner, and every time he feels like a damn fool.

* * *

97\. Drizzle (Midorima Shintarou/Murasakibara Atsushi, 175 wds, K+)

It's drizzling, hard enough that Midorima kind of wishes he'd brought an umbrella but not hard enough for him to voice his complaints. It's not as if Atsushi much likes the rain, either; the look of disgust is evident on his face. He stops and loosens his hand from Midorima's and shrugs out of his jacket. He drapes it over both of their heads, something that Midorima had thought only happened in television shows about high schoolers who saved the world in time to come back for the cultural festival—it doesn't help much. The rain's blowing into their faces.

Atsushi still looks quite proud of himself, but they must look stupid. Atsushi should be cold, too, without even a sweater. As if in response to the coldness seeping its way under his skin, he hugs Midorima closer.

It's impossible to walk like this. Midorima extracts himself from the awkward position and Atsushi puts his coat back on the right way.

They smile the whole way back, even though the rain comes down increasingly harder.

* * *

98\. Cigarette (Kise Ryouta/Himuro Tatsuya, 209 wds, T)

Kise leans over to light his cigarette on the end of Himuro's; he pulls back and the ashes crumble from the end. They both inhale in a weird kind of rhythm and star upward at the ceiling. The paint is crumbling in the corner; they need to get that redone—but it was just painted five years ago when they moved in. It can wait; it will wait. Neither of them is very proactive when it comes to this sort of thing; they like to watch things fall apart and cover themselves in the poisoned ugliness of it all. Maybe it's because they're young and beautiful and rich that they have the luxury of choosing to be in some kind of artificial ugly world that's still vapid in the same way that the one occupied by doe-eyed children and sleazy plastic surgeons and cocaine-snorting actors is. The ugly words slide off the sheen of their bubble and disappear with a shimmer and they are inside, watching the madness and smoking.

Himuro slides his free hand up Kise's leg and Kise sighs like the perfect little model he is, puts the half-burned cigarette on the ashtray, throws his neck back and waits for Himuro's dry, smoky mouth to touch it.

* * *

99\. Affection (Imayoshi Shouichi/Kasamatsu Yukio, 232 wds, T)

Kasamatsu knows he's not good at showing affection, at admitting his feelings even to himself. Imayoshi is a little too good at it, though, and Kasamatsu wonders increasingly often if he's faking it, what with the slick undertones in his voice as he murmurs something Kasamatsu can't quite catch because he's too busy focusing on the fact that Imayoshi has just grabbed his fucking hand right here in the middle of the street. It's not like he wants Imayoshi to prove his love or something. That's just dumb. He's not quite sure what he wants, and maybe it has nothing to do with Imayoshi. Maybe it's on him to work out his feelings in his mind, if this is love or just some kind of confusion.

Imayoshi's surprisingly patient, though. He constantly pushes Kasamatsu out of his comfort zone, but it's never too far. They reach the edge and stare into the abyss but Kasamatsu never falls into it. And it's not like he's going to ever be perfectly confident in every social situation, especially when there's tension like this in the air and Imayoshi's cold fingers are wandering. Why does he have to overthink this? He's a simple guy; knowing what he wants should be easy. So he takes a deep breath and jumps off the edge, pulling Imayoshi on top of him and kissing him roughly. (Imayoshi doesn't seem surprised.)

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no ratings or word counts this time due to laziness, also a lot of rule 63 in this one whoa

100\. Cuddling (Takao Kazunari/Hanamiya Makoto)

Makoto's neck always smells good, like sweat and expensive cologne, and as always it's only a matter of time before Takao buries his face in it, pressing a soft kiss right under the collar of Makoto's shirt. Makoto shivers and elbows him in the stomach, but Takao's prepared and doesn't loosen his arms from around Makoto's waist.

"Your nose is cold," Makoto says.

"Mm," is Takao's only reply. He's concentrating on the way Makoto's body feels in his arms and the soft hair tickling his forehead. Makoto huffs.

He places his hands over Takao's and digs in his nails. Takao widens the gap between his fingers, and sure enough, the scratches trail inward and Makoto laces his fingers in between Takao's.

Takao kisses the nape of Makoto's neck and Makoto sighs. "That feels good." He pauses. "Like I'd say anything like that."

He doesn't move, though, so any bite that remark may have had is canceled out.

* * *

101\. Sore (Kiyoshi Teppei/Kagami Taiga)

Taiga's sore from practice again today, groaning as he settles into Teppei's lap and closing his eyes. He's too tired to talk and his legs hurt too much to move them, and so on days like this they just lie together on the couch. Teppei murmurs whatever comes to his mind into Taiga's ear, and Taiga occasionally grunts or hums noncommittally, just to let Teppei know he's still awake and listening. He lapses into sleep at some point, though, when the ragged conversation fades to smooth, companionable silence between them. Taiga's sleeping face is soft and relaxed and sweet, and Teppei kisses it a few times (because sleeping Taiga doesn't blush or attack him back with kisses of his own that bruise Teppei's lips the way conscious Taiga does). He carries him to bed, barely noticing the creak of his knee under the weight.

* * *

102\. Hair (Takao Kazunari/Hanamiya Makoto)

Makoto's hair is always flawless, completely tangle-free with no split ends and softer to the touch than an expensive cashmere sweater (and Takao would know this because Makoto wears them way too often in dark, muted colors that he prefers over the lighter colors that would suit him just as well). It must be one of the perks of being rich, having one's own hairdresser, or the best hair products money can buy, or the spare time to devote to one's hair.

Takao envies Makoto's hairdresser, whoever he or she may be (if there is such a person). Getting paid to touch this hair and to massage shampoo into his scalp and—it's no use thinking about that. When TAkao plays with his hair, Makoto becomes far more docile than usual, relaxing into his touch and as long as Takao is careful he doesn't say anything. Takao puts in little braids and experiments with different parts and as long as he puts it back at the end it's fine.

Naturally, this leads to Takao leaving in some things, tucking clover between black strands and pretending to pluck it out and laughing when Makoto sees his reflection and starts to swear, keeping a tiny braid in the back secured with a rubber band (which becomes the cause for many angry text messages the following morning). Today, though, he wants to be a bit more up-front about it.

Makoto looks wonderful when his hair is out of his face, which only usually happens for brief moments when they're having sex and the sweat keeps Makoto's bangs slicked back but it's not just the sex that makes it look good, Makoto's face looks good even when the hair isn't framing it. Takao smooths Makoto's hair back, out of his face, admiring the length and the way it catches the light. He picks up one of his sister's pink scrunchies (he never thought he'd be grateful for her absentmindedness and habitual way of leaving things lying around) and secures the ponytail low against Makoto's neck.

Almost immediately, Makoto brings his hands up because Takao is not supposed to leave things in there, but Takao closes his hands around Makoto's wrists and leans over to look directly at his face. It's upside down, but the effect is the same. Makoto looks gorgeous; the empty space between his eyes seems even wider without a lock of hair in between.

He realizes that that position was a stupid idea only when Makoto flips him over and sends him crashing to the ground, but he got a few seconds of Makoto's unobstructed face and that's what counts.

* * *

103\. Cold Embrace (Izuki Shun/Akashi Seijuurou)

Izuki expects Akashi's embrace to be cold, but it's not.

Akashi's a pretty cold guy, after all, and even sex seems like just an everyday thing with him, as he brings Izuki to the edge again and again but stays so calm himself, just silently thrusting—he does not sweat or gasp. Izuki wonders if he's human sometimes, but then the better part of him scolds himself for even daring to think that. Those are the moments that Akashi's shoulder turns away ever-so-slightly and Izuki knows he knows what Izuki's thinking and it's almost too much to bear. But Akashi forgives him anyway, takes him to bed and ravishes him all over again and then holds him afterwards (though they don't speak during this time; it seems to be a silent rule of sorts).

His arms are warm; the pulse in his hand beats steadily on Izuki's waist. The last thought on Izuki's mind before he drifts off to sleep is that the intimacy of this moment is not wasted.

* * *

104\. Band (Takao Kazunari/Hanamiya Makoto)

Makoto's in a full-on pout right now, scowling and doing that thing with his lips and arms crossed and he's looking and acting like a petulant child right now and Takao is not amused and it's wearing on his patience in multiple ways. "Come on, Mako-chan," he pleads.

Makoto shakes his head. "I don't like that kind of music."

"You don't even know what kind of music we play!"

Makoto just glares.

Why is he being so difficult? (Well, why other than the fact that Makoto is Makoto?) Takao tries to soften the irritated tension away from his face. "Please, Mako-chan?"

In the end, Makoto just wants attention (why he doesn't realize that he'll get it anyway Takao doesn't know, maybe it's just habitual brattiness). "Okay," he mutters.

(-)

Getting him to go is one thing, but getting him to have fun is entirely another. They're not a big group (none of them are professional musicians, after all, just regular guys who do this for fun) so they're crammed into a fairly clean but dark and crowded bar below street level. It's not Makoto's type of concert (if Makoto has a type of concert; he probably has multiple complaints about every venue and performance group in the country) to say the least. He's uncomfortable sweating and he doesn't like the cheap booze and, yeah, he's not really a fan of blues-influenced rock. He looks absolutely miserable when Takao meets him out back, shivering in the cold fall night air, and Takao feels a little guilty, even though the back of his mind is whispering, "he's just faking."

Makoto won't take his hand or kiss his still-kind-of-sweaty face, and Takao's guitar feels too heavy on his shoulders. Maybe he should have known better. Does forcing Makoto into doing something he doesn't enjoy benefit anyone?

Well, Takao can't be too negative here. Seeing Makoto's familiar scowl, standing still in the middle of the drunk and dancing crowd had given him a certain confidence, something to actually play guitar for. His bandmates don't really care that much about hitting the right notes, and it's not like most of the crowd is ever really paying attention to more than the beat and a general lack of extreme dissonance. But Makoto had been listening, even if he hadn't been enjoying the experience. Isn't that something?

Maybe Takao's just imagining things he wants to see, but there's definitely something beyond boredom and disgust in Makoto's eyes. He leans forward and captures Makoto's lips in his and then quickly withdraws. "I really love you, Mako-chan."

* * *

105\. High Heels (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

"You'll break your ankle in those," Akashi says.

"Is that a threat?" Mibuchi raises an eyebrow.

He sits down beside her on the couch, frowning at her legs. She's already noticeably taller than him, and wearing heels only emphasizes that fact. (It also emphasizes the length of her legs and the definition of her toned calves, one of her best features made even better. That, too, could potentially cause problems.) He knows she wouldn't break her ankle on purpose and that she knows how to walk in heels, but his mind is filled with images of her feet slipping out or turning inward at exactly the most inopportune time (which frankly would be any time), especially with the prefectural championships coming up next week. It's not that their second-string shooting guard is inadequate per se, but he's frankly just not as good as Mibuchi is.

"Sneakers," Akashi says. "Or flats. You should be wearing sensible shoes."

"Oh?" Mibuchi says, standing and drawing herself up to her full height, towering over him. She knows how much he hates it when people look down at him, but she also knows he's too cautious of her ankle to actually use emperor's eye. (Her jeans really are too tight, too, leaving nothing in the way of shape to the imagination.) Akashi sighs and stands up. It's really unnerving how his head is barely up to her shoulder. This problem can be mitigated if he just picks her up, so he does. She's not feather-light but Akashi is strong enough from his hours of practice to not have any trouble lifting her.

Mibuchi blushes and sure enough, her shoes are hanging off her feet awkardly. "Sei-chan!"

Carrying her to the bedroom is the best option right now. She seems to agree, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him one of her dangerously beautiful smiles.

* * *

106\. Green Eyed Monster (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

They're walking back to Aomine's house from the grocery store on what has so far been a normal afternoon when Shintarou grabs Aomine's hand and locks their fingers together.

He tucks a lock of green hair behind his ear with his other hand and blushes (subtlety has never been his strong suit), trying to look the other way. Aomine is pleased, but also a bit confused—Shintarou's made it clear on numerous occasions that he considers holding hands to be major PDA.

Aomine shifts the grocery bag into the crook of his elbow so he can poke Shintarou's cheek. He flinches and starts to withdraw his hand but then…he doesn't.

"You're affectionate today," Aomine says.

Shintarou scowls. "Those girls shouldn't be looking at you like that."

What the fuck is he talking about? "What girls?"

Shintarou waves his free hand vaguely at a group of giggling young women walking near them. They don't seem to be paying any attention to Aomine, just talking amongst themselves. Well, no matter, Shintarou still hasn't let go of his hand.

* * *

107\. Possessive (Midorima Shintarou/Takao Kazunari)

It starts with the small things, touches on the wrist and hugs around the waist and Takao's a really touchy-feely kind of guy so it might be okay (it's not like Midorima actually enjoys the warmth of his arms or the pressure of a finger, not at all). And they're dating, so it might be allowed—but this much? Midorima definitely doesn't want to hold hands because it's too damn conspicuous (he pretends not to hear Takao's remark about how 190-plus centimeter guys with green hair shouldn't be saying anything about trying to look inconspicuous) and he likes keeping things to himself. There's a certain power in other people not knowing—and why should they know anything about his personal life? He doesn't really want to know about theirs. It's embarrassing; people stare at couples who hold hands with envy and with anger and with happiness, and Midorima doesn't really want these other people's emotions.

But, to be fair, there's another power, the power of people knowing—that's what Takao wants. He wants to dump his happiness on other people whether they like it or not, wants to flaunt it, wants to show off that Midorima is his (and though Midorima tries to insist that he isn't, Takao knows that he is, most completely). Takao's utterly unapologetic about his greed and his possessiveness and his feelings, and that's perhaps what Midorima loves the most about him.

And sometimes it's nice to show off and to be shown off, even at a party when he's just talking to someone and Takao sidles over and places an arm around Midorima's waist and a kiss on his cheek and a grin on his own face that clearly says, "back off." He'll argue with Takao about it, of course, even though both of them know he doesn't mean it.

* * *

108\. Cooking (Nebuya Eikichi/Hanamiya Makoto)

Makoto's been ragging on him not to eat out so much, to learn how to make his own damn gyudon, so he buys a cookbook and gets the ingredients but ends up eating a lot of them raw because he's hungry, okay? The recipe's proportions seem a bit off, anyway, and Makoto, who has claimed to want no part in this little cooking experiment but is for some reason hanging out in the kitchen anyway, starts freaking out about following the recipe. (Makoto's never been a stickler for any type of rules before, so what the actual fuck?)

Makoto tells Eikichi he's an incompetent lout and that he should go in the living room and let Makoto handle everything but of course Makoto can't cook either, has had other people prepare meals for him his whole damn life, and so he burns the beef and Eikichi yells at him for being such a fucking dumbass and the kitchen ends up a wreck and they end up ordering takeout and having sloppy sex in the living room that leaves Eikcihi with a horrible rug burn.

* * *

109\. Radiant (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

Mibuchi can feel the tangles in her hair, and that is eventually what drags her out of the clutches of sleep. She gives a half-sigh and reaches up to feel the back of her head and opens her eyes.

Akashi's asleep beside her, and now that she thinks about it she can feel the pressure of his hand on her bare hipbone in the uncovered space between her long-since-too-small t-shirt and her underwear. The smile on his face is placid and he looks positively radiant in the sunlight shining through her sheer curtains and illuminating his silhouette.

Her hair is definitely more than a bit mussed-up from last night, but it will just have to wait for once. There's no way she can prematurely end this perfect moment.

* * *

110\. Cake (Takao Kazunari/Momoi Satsuki)

Right after Takao had started dating Momoi, Midorima had demanded a "serious talk" with him. Takao had been expecting a leture on how he should take good care of her and be careful about what would happen if she didn't (after all, she had been Midorima's friend or acquaintance or something in middle school) but it had really been a warning to never eat her cooking. (At the end of the discussion, he'd mentioned that Momoi could probably take care of herself and he'd have to face the combined wrath of Akashi, Kuroko, Aomine, and Kise if he ever did something dumb like hurt her.)

Several months after this discussion, Takao is presented with a very vivid illustration to the problem of Momoi's cooking: she presents him with a cake, one that she proudly states that she's made herself from a recipe she found online and that she's excited to know what he thinks.

Knowing what he does of Momoi, Takao understands that this isn't some kind of trap or test. She has genuinely tried her damn hardest to bake a cake. It looks…kind of like a cake…if he's being generous. It's collapsed in on itself and the icing is uneven and some suspiciously-colored filling is leaking from one side. She probably honestly does want his opinion, and that's why he can't tell her how disgusting it looks.

Well, he hasn't babysat his sister for years for nothing. He's managed to wolf down the disgusting "smoothies" she's created using instant coffee and tropical-flavored yogurt and the mustard-and-peach-preserves sandwich she made him once. Who knows, anyway? This might be good.

Still, it's a lot easier to lie to a six-year-old than it is to lie to someone like Momoi who is shrewd and and excellent judge of truth.

It's not his proudest moment, but he kicks over the table, drags his foot—and the noise the cake makes when it hits the floor, a mixture between a sickening splat and a clunk, is certainly shocking enough to put a convincing look of horrified surprise on his face.

She's distraught, but he kisses her and apologizes and promises that they can go home and make a cake together, a new cake that's better than this one.

* * *

111\. Beginnings (Imayoshi Shouichi/Kasamatsu Yukio)

The first time Imayoshi calls Kasamatsu by his first name is when he asks him out. He takes Kasamatsu's hand in his and somehow Kasamatsu can't pull away. yukio-san," he starts, flashing a shark-like grin and Kasamatsu is too buys being wary of just what exactly Imayoshi is going to ask him to notice and get mad.

What he says is convoluted, but Kasamatsu's not a complete idiot. He can make sense of it—well, he'd like to think that, anyway. "Are you asking me out?"

Imayoshi smiles again. "Clever boy."

Kasamatsu really wants to punch the smug look off of Imayoshi's face and he really means to do so, except a "yes" comes out of his mouth and he finds that Imayoshi's smiling even harder. What the fuck has he gotten himself into?

(-)

He's been shying away from Imayoshi's lips all afternoon, too embarrassed and weirded out to even think properly about kissing him. Of course, it's Imayoshi, so he always finds a way, reaching across the table and squeezing his hand as a momentary distraction, then leaning over and softly pressing their lips together.

It's actually not too bad, his lips soft and tasting slightly of mint. He doesn't push Kasamatsu too far or deepen the kiss too much.

That doesn't stop Kasamatsu's face from turning bright red or keep him from spluttering and yelling. (He still finds that he can't pull away his hand.)

* * *

112\. Don't Deny (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

She twirls a lock of hair around her finger. The boy gulps. Good, he hasn't forgotten what happened on the basketball court. He really is cute, looking up at her with those lovely eyes, uniform jacket unbuttoned and hands stuck in his pocket.

"Takao, was it?"

He nods. He knows she knows his name, but agrees to play her game anyway. "You're Mibuchi-senpai."

She giggles. It's so funny to hear him talk so politely, especially given the way he addresses his teammates, particularly that weird Midorima kid. "Oh, you don't have to be so formal—"

A hand snakes its way around her waist. "Reo, we're leaving."

She sighs. Picking Takao's brain would have been fun, but there will be other times. "See you!" she says brightly, tossing Takao a smile as Akashi practically drags her off.

"Sei-chan, that was really rude," she says. "I wanted to talk to him. Couldn't it wait?"

"You need to not flirt with opponents."

"Sei-chan, are you jealous? You know I would never—"

"I know," he says, "But don't give him any ideas."

Well, he hasn't outright denied his jealousy, has he? She leans down to kiss him and he smiles into her lips.

* * *

113\. Doll (Aomine Daiki/fem!Midorima Shintarou)

Satsuki has a porcelain doll that is her most treasured possession. It has pale, cold skin and large eyes framed in thick eyelashes and wears a beautiful lacy dress. Satsuki never takes it out of the box, just stands in front of it in a kind of rapture for hours at a time. Aomine occasionally joins her and eventually drags her off to go catch bugs or draw pictures or play basketball but he always takes a few seconds to stand beside Satsuki and stare at the doll. Satsuki's obsession gradually fades as they grow older, and though the doll continues to stand on top of her dresser Aomine mostly puts it out of his mind.

Then he meets Midorima and is instantly reminded of the porcelain lady in her long skirt with her impeccably tidy appearance, long lashes and pale fingertips peeking out from her sleeves as she stares out the window. Aomine is completely smitten at once.

It's odd that it had been her still, doll-like beauty that had first caught his attention, because now he can't think about her without thinking of motion, the way a basketball flies off her fingertips or the way she cocks her head at him or the rearrangement of her face from neutrality into a pout or the feeling of her lips moving against his or the way she traces a finger over his face when she thinks he's still asleep, or the way she gestures during their banter—god he loves their snarky arguments about nothing.

He's not aware he's staring into space until he hears the wind rattle the windows violently and suddenly, and he jerks his head upward.

"Hmm?" Midorima says, looking up from the newspaper.

"I'm glad you're human."

She cocks her head but then just shrugs when he doesn't elaborate and turns her head back to the article, lips turning up at the corners.

* * *

114\. Yuki-Onna (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

Her beauty is ethereal, graceful; she walks without seeming to touch the ground; she's captivating. It would be unwise, Akashi thinks, to compare her to a Yuki-Onna out loud. She might get the wrong idea, because even though she enjoys being flattered she's not overwhelmingly optimistic. She looks for hidden meanings, places double entendres in her words.

Her skin is cool to the touch, but she doesn't like to wear a coat even in the winter (against his better judgement, Akashi offers her his; she accepts on multiple occasions even though the sleeves are too short on her arms and the buttons strain against her chest). To say she's a Yuki-Onna, or even that she resembles one, would be incorrect and offensive. She's real, more than just otherworldly beauty. There's too much life in her flushed cheeks and starry eyes for her to be a ghost.

* * *

115\. Stolen Glances (Mayuzumi Chihiro/fem!Izuki Shun)

Mayuzumi's never really used his lack of presence in a pervy kind of way before. He hasn't really thought about it in terms of personal advantage for that long, anyway, and most of the time he has better things to do than to sneak glances at the proper Rakuzan girls in their tidy uniforms (he can always read an erotic novel at home if he needs to get off; he can picture the perfect woman in his head and it's quite satisfying).

Izuki, though, seems hell-bent on two things: making him laugh at her horrible puns and teasing him into making the first move. On one hand, they're already going out, so what's even the point? On the other, he's not one to back down. Still, it's kind of hard to ignore her when she's wearing shorts like those that emphasize her toned thighs and when she stretches her legs out in front of her and points her toes. She's a bit taller than average, and she milks it for all that it's worth (whatever that may be). Mayuzumi keeps catching himself almost glancing away from his latest light novel—and he's only a third of the way through, and he finds this author's work very engrossing.

"Mayuzumi-san," Izuki says—she's noticed his almost-glances. Of course. Lack of presence is canceled out by her vision and proximity and the deliberately close attention she pays to him. "You don't seem to be too into your book today. Maybe you should try something else. You know, something novel."

If his mouth is on top of hers she can't vocalize whatever terrible pun she thinks of next, can she?

* * *

116\. Fallen (Izuki Shun/fem!Akashi Seijuurou)

The next thing he knows, his legs have gone out from under him and he's falling into something, and it only takes him a few milliseconds with eagle's eye to realize that that something is Akashi. Fuck.

Hyuuga starts to freak the fuck out and yell about how at least Furi didn't fall on top of her and Koga is making some weird half-laughing, half-choking sound and Izuki is still sprawled out on top of Akashi. At least she hasn't killed him yet.

Up close, he's taken aback by the fire in her eyes and the smirk on her lips. Did she plan this? Well, knowing what he does about her he really wouldn't put anything past her (not that he literally could, because, you know, emperor's eye) and then she almost leers up at him, inches her face closer.

Just as their noses are about to touch, she stops. "Perhaps you should get up," she whispers, and it's not a request; it's an order. Naturally, he complies.

The air is awkward, tension heavy and evident. Izuki knows they're not going to blame him if he has trouble marking her, but he almost wants to take himself out of the game. Of course, he makes the mistake of glancing back at her and she calls him over with her eyes. He can't stop looking at her for the rest of the game, his mind and body overtaken by a strange, foreign sensation that he can't quite name. He mentions it to Koga after the game, how he felt his movement was hindered and how it must be some weird effect of the emperor's eye and Koga just laughs and calls over Mitobe, who pats him on the shoulder, looking even more worried than usual.

* * *

117\. Nurse (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

The thing about working in a hospital is that you get exposed to rather nasty pathogens, and even if you take the best precautions and remember to keep washing your hands even after handling the patients while wearing gloves and get all of your seasonal shots, you still might get sick.

"I had my lucky item," Midorima repeats, burrowing further under the covers.

Aomine sighs. "Just go to sleep."

Midorima shakes his head, but his eyes are closed anyway, and his breathing soon evens out. Aomine tiptoes out so he can properly call into work and tell them he can't make it in today.

Last night, Midorima had been more tired than usual, but he's had the usual heavier late autumn workload and it's really nothing out of the ordinary. Today, he woke up with a fever and clearly in pain. It seems to be a bad flu, and Aomine curses whatever horrible little child (why does Midorima have to work in pediatrics? Children are fucking bacterial breeding grounds.) is the root of this. Sure, with regular over-the-counter flu medicine Midorima's fever has gone down and he's able to sleep peacefully, but still. Aomine can't help but worry and he hates not being able to do much of anything right now except sit there and wait.

(-)

Midorima's fever breaks in the early evening, and he wakes up, still sore and tired but feeling more lucid and calm. Slumped beside him on the bed, on top of the covers and holding his hand, is Aomine. He's gently snoring—Midorima will never doubt his ability to fall asleep in the oddest of positions. He's probably going to catch this horrible flu from staying so close to Midorima, but it can't be helped at this point, can it? After all, every time Midorima has opened his eyes to briefly take more medicine or drink more water or try to shift into a more comfortable position, Aomine's been there to smooth the sweaty hair off of his forehead or refill his glass. He gently squeezes Aomine's hand, being careful not to wake him. After all, he's more than earned this rest.

* * *

118\. Going Down (Takao Kazunari/Hanamiya Makoto)

Takao sinks down into the soft leather backseat of Makoto's car, back scraping against the tinted window and the weirdly-placed cup holder (it's going to leave a nasty gash, but he doesn't have to look at his own back, does he?) and kicking his naked legs into the air as Makoto crawls between them and shoves his shoulders roughly against the undersides of Takao's thighs. He flicks his tongue against the tip of Takao's cock and Takao shudders. Makoto grins and flicks his tongue again. Takao moans and bucks his hips up against Makot's mouth. This is not enough; this is pure torture. He reaches a hand down to roughly grab at Makoto's head and jerk it forward but Makoto complies before his hand can even brush against the soft inky hair. Still, as Makoto takes Takao's entire length in his mouth Takao needs something to hold onto, so he threads his fingers through Makoto's hair and tries to spread his legs further apart even though there's no room—even a luxury car has its size limits. Makoto's sucking on Takao in agonizing slowness, and even as the waves of pleasure are hitting Takao they aren't enough. He wants more, more, more, pushes Makoto's head. Makot's tongue responds, licking patterns into Takao's cock and Makoto mouths the words to something and matches the tongue motions and Takao is panting and crying out but he's still not there completely. Finally, Makoto starts going faster and faster and from there it's only a matter of (short) time until Takao comes. He lets his body rest and takes in the feeling of the leather chafing against his ass from all the friction and the way his arm sticks to the seat and the awkward angle of his neck that's already aching and it's completely awful but he still feels really good, too, because there is nothing in the world that feels as damn amazing as Makoto's mouth.

* * *

119\. No Right (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

She's a year older and plays with the boys and is better than pretty much every other player in her year, something that Akashi finds somewhat intriguing in principle. He doesn't know what she looks like, smaller than her teammates he imagines and perhaps smaller than he is himself—but Satsuki's stats have her at 181 centimeters, furthering the enigma. (It's not a matter of the challenge she poses; Teikou will defeat Mibuchi Reo and her team. That much is certain; the question still remains how exactly the events will play out.)

Then, he meets her, and Akashi Seijuurou is absolutely blown away. Her arms are perfect, long and toned and ending in perfect fingers that look soft but handle the basketball with razor sharp precision. Her face is unblemished, and she doesn't seem to be wearing any makeup (it's against the tournament rules, anyway) and it takes him a few seconds to realize that those are real eyelashes. They're even thicker and longer than Shintarou's. and her eyes are softer and not hidden away by thick glasses. Her nose is sloped at an exact angle and her cheekbones are high and sharp, and her face is framed by glossy hair that somehow manages to stay out of her eyes.

Of course Teikou wins. Mibuchi holds her head up high, anyway, bows in defeat but does not break, and who gave her the right to look so beautiful in defeat? Who gave her the right to stay this haughty, to stretch the taut muscles of her back upward? She accepts the absoluteness of Teikou but still does not give up, and she has given herself the right to be as beautiful as she pleases.

* * *

120\. Lovely (Izuki Shun/fem!Akashi Seijuurou)

Akashi's pretty, but she's not lovely or delicate. She's strong, has an unbreakable will, is insanely smart and talented, and she's got a gorgeous face and a lovely body that's all tight curves and toned muscles. At least, that's what Izuki thinks until she actually demonstrates her loveliness.

She stands in the doorway to her room, hair untied, and says, "Shun, come to bed," and the curve of her mouth when she says his name is lovelier than anything he's ever seen before, and the way it rolls naturally off of her tongue is even lovelier than the sight of it, echoing in his ears as he makes his way over to her in a sort of semitrance. She threads their fingers together and the slight flush on her cheeks, present now even though she has uttered bolder things in his presence, is loveliest of all.

* * *

121\. Misunderstand (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

It's obvious how close they are, even from a distance. On the basketball court, they function as a two-man unit, each one making up for one another's shortcomings, and they could probably take on a lot of full-strength teams, just the two of them, Aomine realizes, as Midorima grabs a rebound and passes it out to Takao, who runs down the court and waits for the play to set up, then passes it back to Midorima who makes a three easy. And then when they're not playing basketball, they're always tilted toward each other and giving each other these little glances and the way they smile at each other Aomine wishes was the way Midorima smiled at him.

Of course, Midorima doesn't smile at him because he doesn't like Aomine like that. Hell, he doesn't even realize that Aomine likes him, which is probably a damn good thing given Midorima's lack of reciprocation. It's the worst. Aomine doesn't even know why he likes Midorima, besides the obvious physical appearances. Well, yeah, Midorima's grown up a shitton since middle school, but all of that has to do with Takao, doesn't it? It's Takao who's brought him out of his shell and helped him not act so self-righteous and isolated all the damn time.

Needless to say, he's very surprised to learn that Takao has a girlfriend. Satsuki mentions it with a knowing little smile on her face and pats him on the shoulder.

"Dai-chan, you'd think that after so many people have misunderstood our relationship that you'd be able to tell the difference."

Still, that might make it even worse. Satsuki's last boyfriend complained that they were a package deal and it was fucking creepy as shit, and Aomine had never wanted to punch someone so badly. But if he wants to date Midorima he not only has to measure up to Midorima's high personal standards but Takao's as well. (At least Satsuki seems to approve of Midorima.)

* * *

122\. Sneeze (Takao Kazunari/Hanamiya Makoto)

Takao sneezes violently and Makoto drops his hand. "Are you sick?"

Takao shakes his head. "I'm fine." Then he sneezes again into his sleeve.

Makoto edges away. "Don't come near me."

"I'm fine," Takao says. "Really."

They continue walking, Makoto refusing to take Takao's hand back. Takao sighs and then sneezes again. Fuck. He feels fine, no headache or sore throat or even that his nose is all that stuffy. Well, best be on the safe side and buy some tissues in case he keeps sneezing. They pass a drugstore and Takao doubles back. Makoto follows him, still refusing to touch him. Takao finds the tissues and carries them to the register, where Makoto is waiting with a bunch of stuff of his own. He dumps it in Takao's arms.

"I don't have much cash," Takao says. Makoto can pay for his own damn stuff; it's not like he can't afford it.

"I'll pay," Makoto says. "I just want you to get better quickly."

Takao looks at the pile of items—hand sanitizer, cold medicine, and cough drops. He raises an eyebrow.

"Like I'd say that," Makoto says. Takao hopes this means he's still paying. (It does, as it turns out.)

From the way Makoto forces Takao to take a dosage of the cold medicine, it's pretty obvious (to Takao at least) that he actually does care about Takao's well-being. As Makoto protests that he'll catch the cold, Takao puts his arm around Makoto's waist and pulls him closer, placing a kiss on his cold cheek. Makoto's really cute sometimes.

* * *

123\. Greed (Takao Kazunari/Himuro Tatsuya/Hanamiya Makoto)

Himuro can't quite decide whether he wants to be treated roughly or gently, wants both, feels like he should be punished while desiring a reward—it's a damn good thing he has both. Hanamiya is biting his shoulders and scratching deep gashes in his back while Takao sucks his cock and massages his thighs and it's wonderful. He feels so greedy, but there's no time to think about that feeling, not when his greed is being satisfied. Hanamiya bends Himuro's elbow backwards to the point where Himuro thinks it might actually snap, and then he lets' go and bites Himuro's neck, teeth pinching and pressing on the skin. Takao spreads Himuro's legs apart further and Himuro can't keep his eyes open. This feels so amazing, so—it's almost too much, but Himuro will never be satisfied.

* * *

124\. Unintelligible (Kasamatsu Yukio/Hayakawa Mitsuhiro)

Once Hayakawa gets going, the excitement overtakes him—he has problems pronouncing certain words to begin with, but right now they're all a jumble in his mind and he can't get them out fast enough and he's really trying to get Kasamatsu to understand but he has this look on his face like he has no fucking clue what Hayakawa is saying.

"Damn it, Hayakawa. Slow down. I can't understand you."

Hayakawa slumps his shoulders, but then brightens almost a second later and whips out a pen and hastily scribbles something on the back of his hand and then turns it around to show Kasamatsu.

"It's upside down."

Hayakawa frowns and twists his arm, but can't fucking hold it still enough for Kasamatsu to read the words, so he circles back around Hayakawa's shoulder and looks over, grabbing Hayakawa's hand to keep it steady.

"Senpai, will you go out with me?" the text reads.

Kasamatsu turns bright red. "Is this some kind of a stupid joke, Hayakawa? Because it's not funny."

Hayakawa shakes his head violently, and then turns around and smushes his mouth against Kasamatsu's (calling it a kiss would be too generous). It's sloppy and kind of awful and he clearly doesn't know what he's doing, but then again neither does Kasamatsu.

* * *

125\. Tinsel (Midorima Shintarou/Kise Ryouta)

Kise's exuberance truly knows no bounds. They bought a Christmas tree last night and he wanted to decorate it right away even though they had to let the branches settle, and was ready to camp out on the couch. (How old is he, five?) Midorima dragged him off to bed as he protested, and figured Kise would forget about it in the morning. Unfortunately, he hasn't, and unfortunately, it's a weekend, so no matter where Midorima stands he's in position to be hit by flying tinsel. It sticks itself to his sweater and the bottom of his feet and tangles itself in his hair.

But Kise is having fun, so Midorima tries not to say anything. (Kise probably won't notice if he does.) But then Kise actually glances away from the damn tree and grins at Midorima sand waltzes over, grabbing him by the hand. "Come put the star on the top! I can't reach."

Midorima sighs but follows him, anyway. Why does he do these things? He reaches up and places the metal star on the top of the tree and turns to Kise, whose face has lit up like a thousand miniature stars are inside his face. Oh, yeah, that's why.

* * *

126\. Queen (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

His first impression of Mibuchi Reo is that she's a mother hen, constantly rounding up the rowdy boys of the Rakuzan team and doing a far better job than Shirogane-sensei at keeping them under control. She worries over them and nags them and expects so much of them, perfectly reinforcing the Rakuzan mentality that your best will never be good enough.

She's a bit like everyone's older sister, though, once he gets to know her. Obviously she's too young to be any of their biological mother, and she never gets too overprotective or restrictive—she gives them advice, solicited and unsolicited, or she tells them they're gross and too sweaty and hairy and they're all reminded all over again that she's a schoolgirl.

But that's not really the right word; she's really a grown woman already, taking on more than her share because she feels she ought to and she owes it to something or someone or herself, refusing to let the boys catch up with her, winning by whatever means necessary, using her femininity as a tool, another means to achieve the end. It is this raw intensity that attracts Akashi (well, he cannot deny her beauty, but beauty itself is not attractive on everyone) and this hunger, the way she attacks everything and forces it to obey her will like a queen. Not only is she worthy of standing beside him, she knows she is. She has no time for self-deprecation and compliment-fishing and similar tactics; when she walks in she owns the room. The worst part is she knows that she's got him wrapped around her finger, knows even as he keeps a poker face what he's thinking. But he also knows that the same holds true for her. After all, he is absolute.

* * *

127\. Bad Advice (Nebuya Eikichi/Hanamiya Makoto, ft. Kiyoshi Teppei)

Kiyoshi is really the last person Makoto wants to go to for advice, but he might actually be the only option. Yamazaki's too stupid; Seto's never even been kissed; Hara would just laugh at him; Furuhashi would give him bad advice on purpose; there's no way he's letting Imayoshi know he needs any sort of help—the guy will hold this knowledge over him forever. Besides, Kiyoshi knows the guy in question better than anyone else Makoto knows, and he's too much of a goody two-shoes to call in a favor in return. So, okay, he might give bad advice, but he'll try his damned hardest to do something for Makoto.

"What kind of guy do you think Nebuya likes?"

"Nebuya?" Kiyoshi asks. "I don't know. A guy who'll buy him gyudon? A guy who plays basketball? Why don't you ask him?"

Is he nuts? Makoto's beginning to regret this already. "I can't ask him." Does Kiyoshi know anything about subtlety? (Granted, Nebuya doesn't know anything about subtlety, either, but he's definitely sharper than he looks and sharper than Kiyoshi, who seems to not have picked up the fact that Makoto likes Nebuya—another reason why Kiyoshi might be a good person to ask. He can't tell anyone what he doesn't know.)

"Oh, okay, then I'll call him." Kiyoshi pulls out his phone. Makoto wants to tell him to stop—but then again, this might be good. He'll get it directly from Nebuya without having to actually ask. Yeah, maybe getting Kiyoshi's help was a good idea.

"Hey, Nebuya? What kind of guy do you like?" He pauses. "No, no, I'm asking for Hanamiya."

Forget it. He's never getting Kiyoshi's help again.

* * *

128\. Blind Date (Hayama Kotarou/fem!Miyaji Kiyoshi)

Miyaji's always there early for German class, something Hayama has taken advantage of many times in order to get extra time with her, even if she does ignore him or roll her eyes or punch him in the face. Today, though, she's not here. Matsuzaka, one of their classmates who is also quite punctual, is present, though, and Hayama has it on personal authority (it wasn't stalking, okay?) that they take the same train.

"Where's Miyaji-san?"

Matsuzaka looks up from the novel he's reading. "Blind date." He glances back down and continues reading. Hayama grabs the novel out of his hand.

"Blind date? With who? Miyaji-san, I thought you loved me!" Hayama wails, throwing the book on the ground.

"Hey, dumbass, that's my book."

Hayama isn't listening, just sinks into an empty chair and sobs theatrically. The rest of the students stream in, already used to Hayama's antics, most of them too apathetic to really give a damn in the first place.

"Oi, dumbass, shut the hell up."

Hayama sits up immediately, recognizing that voice. "Miyaji-san! I thought you were on a blind date!"

"Who the fuck told you that? I'll kick their ass."

"So Miyaji-san is faithful to me?" Hayama stands up and throws his arms around her. She swiftly uppercuts his jaw and sends him sprawling forward.

"We're not dating, moron."

Hayama is positively giddy throughout the rest of the day.

* * *

129\. Kicks (Aida Kagetora/Araki Masako)

The first time Tora ruffles Masako's hair, she drop-kicks him and runs away blushing. Tora's not sure whether he should be mad that she didn't let him (seriously, she's so cute and her head is at just the right height and her hair is the perfect style for ruffling) or impressed with the strength of her kick (she can't be much more than two thirds of his weight; he's picked her up before—that's another story altogether) so he chooses both, chases after her and yells to the world about how cute she is and how great her kick is.

Her legs are amazing; she runs on the treadmill at max speed an hour after everyone on the men's and women's teams has gone home, and he stands transfixed as he can almost watch her strength and speed and stamina rising and she gets off the treadmill, sweaty and exhausted, and yells that he's a fucking pervert and kicks him in the face, sending him flying across the room and into a stationary bicycle. He doesn't care.

The harder she kicks him, the harder he falls for her, something that Nakatani attributes to too many kicks in the head. Even when he gets knocked out, he still comes running up to her, only to be blasted into next week yet again. Each time, he assures everyone else that he'll be fine, and whether he things she'll stop kicking him or that he'll gain immunity or that he doesn't think she's actually kicking him that hard is really anyone's guess.

* * *

130\. Commuters (Mayuzumi Chihiro/fem!Izuki Shun)

At first, he's nothing more than another person in the corner of her eye, another overworked student from another high school, but he's there on the train every day at the same time that she is, gets on before her and off one stop before she does, and he's always reading a different light novel. He sits in the same seat every time, and she starts trying to make her way into one of the adjacent seats away from the sleazy old men and the stern-looking businesswomen who will glare at her if she so much as accidentally brushes against them. He never looks at her, seems to be hiding his presence—perhaps unintentionally. When she sits next to him, she doesn't feel quite as self-conscious about writing down jokes in her latest book.

One week, she manages to get a seat on his left side every day. She can't believe her luck. It's become sort of a game to see how long she can keep up a streak like this. On Friday, he finishes his book early; it's thinner than usual. She watches him out of the corner of her eye while scribbling down whatever puns that come to mind. She can feel him reading over her shoulder, and he cracks a smile (even when he seems completely engrossed in his book, he never smiles).

"Those are really funny," he says.

This is going to be the start of a wonderful relationship; she can feel it.

* * *

131\. Encounters (Takao Kazunari/Hanamiya Makoto)

Takao's still kind of annoyed that he didn't actually get to play against Hanamiya, one of the top-ranked point guards in high school basketball—but, now that he sees him, this might have been good in terms of Shutoku's chances at winning. His team is at a good place right now, but they still have a few weak spots that they need to fix and Hanamiya is finding the miniature holes in Seirin's defense and ripping them open. Shit. He's mesmerizing, weaving in and out of the opposition, making himself smaller than they are even when he's got a few inches on them (Seirin has to be one of the smallest teams in terms of height) and finding the empty spaces, stealing the ball again and again, passing and shooting with grace and precision. The raw, vicious hunger on his face that subsides into a teasing smirk—and speaking of Hanamiya's face, it's gorgeous. Takao's insides are fluttering dangerously, and even though Hanamiya is trying what seems like his damn hardest to assassinate each and every single player Takao really doesn't care because this is lethal beauty, twisted and sick and captivating. Hanamiya gives into impulses not unlike Takao's long-suppressed urges to go berserk on an opponent who's using ass pull after ass pull and a philosophy that conflicts with his firmly-held beliefs and try to fucking murder them and it's immensely gratifying, even if Takao has nothing personal against Seirin.

He tries to stop thinking about Hanamiya but can't, finds himself looking up videos of Kirisaki Daiichi's Winter Cup run last year, yelling at his sister for using some of the bandwidth for her Neopets, and he can't look away from Hanamiya, the movement of his shoulders and the shifting expression on his face, the inky hair and the curious eyebrows that somehow fit on his face perfectly. Is this what infatuation is like? He sends the links to Midorima, who replies that they've already played Kirisaki Daiichi and they should prepare for other opponents who they'll actually have to play in the winter cup, but he's missing the point entirely. Maybe it's because he plays a different position or because he's denser than a brick wall or some other reason entirely, but he just refuses to see the graceful, visceral way Hanamiya slams the ball against the floor when he dribbles it—just thinking about it isn't enough; he has to watch it again.

(-)

As luck would have it, the entire Kirisaki Daiichi squad shows up to watch the Winter Cup finals. The Shutoku team has changed and they're all ready to leave and the first quarter is already over, but Coach Nakatani makes them watch the finals, anyway—the seniors are exempt but they all come along, not ready to give up the team unity just yet. There's not a big enough group of seats for all of them, but Takao spots Kirisaki Daiichi easily and drags a few of his teammates over with him to fill the row behind Hanamiya.

During halftime, they're all exchanging opinions and Takao's kind of nodding along (he wasn't really paying attention to anything other than the back of Hanamiya's head) and then Hanamiya starts talking. His voice is smooth and life is so unfair, making Takao so overwhelmingly average especially in comparison to someone like this—hawk's eye might get him brownie points on the exceptional side, but not much else.

"Excuse me," Hanamiya says, flashing straight white teeth, "What was your name again?"

Takao talks his ear off for the rest of the game and as a result is cursed at, tripped over, smacked hard in the knee, and ignored for brief periods of time until Hanamiya can't take it anymore. By the end, he's calling him Mako-chan and one of his teammates has given Takao Hanamiya's phone number. Takao waves goodbye as his teammates drag him off and tells Hanamiya where the location of their first date will be, without giving him a chance to go all tsundere or accept beautifully and then say he was lying.

* * *

132\. Birthday Surprise (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

Midorima's phone has been vibrating all morning—he's quite touched, actually; he didn't really think this large of an amount of people would remember his birthday and send him their wishes. A bunch of his teammates have already texted him, and so have a few classmates, as well as some of his middle school teammates. Again, Midorima thumbs through the list, making sure he has replied to everyone—he's totally not looking for a certain name or anything. Well, he needs to get to school now. Aomine's probably still asleep; that's why he hasn't sent anything.

He gets a few more messages during the rest of the morning, but still nothing from Aomine, who should have at least been awake for a brief period of time, even if he's asleep in class. Lunch time rolls around and still nothing. Midorima tells himself that he's being silly and that this isn't a big deal. What was he expecting?

He finds himself getting more and more irritable throughout the day, and by the time school is over he's ready to go home and just lie in bed and feel sorry for himself. He still has practice, though, and it ends up calming him down a bit. There's something soothing about the repetitive motion, even if the gym is stiflingly hot. He gets out and there's still nothing—he wants to just drown his phone in the ocean. Instead, he buries it in the bottom of the bag and just stares into space, trying hard not to think about Aomine as Takao pedals.

His parents and sister aren't home when he gets there, not that it really matters. He just wants to go to sleep and maybe it won't feel bad in the morning. When he gets to the bedroom, Aomine's already there, asleep in his bed.

Midorima drops his schoolbag loudly. Aomine sits up and looks around.

"Took you long enough."

"I had practice. Unlike some people, I actually go to that instead of breaking into other people's houses."

"Lock your damn windows, then," Aomine says. "And it's your birthday; you should get time off for that."

"Oh, so you remembered?"

"Of course I did. That's why I'm here, to give you your present."

"Which is?"

"Me," Aomine says with a triumphant smile.

"I already have you," Midorima snaps.

That's when Aomine pulls him down into the bed with him and kisses him. "You're cute when you're mad."

Midorima huffs. "Idiot."

The sex they have that night is probably the best they've had, so Midorima supposes he might as well count that as his birthday present.

* * *

133\. More Bad Advice (Nebuya Eikichi/Hanamiya Makoto, ft. Mibuchi and Hayama)

"Hey, Reo, how would you attract an intelligent person?"

Reo drops his magazine, eyes gleaming. "Who do you like? Who is it? Which intelligent person?"

Eikichi rolls his eyes. "It's no one in particular, just…in general." The way his eyes are shifting around, it's obvious that he's lying.

"Is it Sei-chan?"

"Are you kidding?"

"It was a serious question, Eikichi. Sei-chan's smart and cute."

"Not my type. Anyway, how would you go about getting someone who's smart to like you?"

Reo rolls his eyes. "Honestly, Eikcihi, you have to tell me more about them. Not all smart people think the same."

"I know that. I'm not that dumb."

"Hey, Kotarou."

Kotarou hasn't been paying attention, totally absorbed in one of those stupid cell phone games that Eikichi's fingers are too big to play properly. His head jerks up. "Yeah?"

"Eikichi likes someone."

"I told you I don't!"

"Who is it? Who is it?"

"No one. Go back to your damn game."

"He says it's someone intelligent, but it's not Sei-chan."

"That's like the whole school, though."

"He doesn't go here!"

"He?" Kotarou says. "Doesn't go here? This no one of yours?"

"Goddamn it. I'm not telling you two. You can't keep your mouths shut."

"No! Eikichi, I promise I won't tell this time." Reo flutters his eyelashes.

"That's not going to work on me."

"Yeah, I really won't," Kotarou says. "I promise. I swear on your beard."

Well, if he tells them they might eventually get around to giving him advice. "Fine. It's Hanamiya."

Reo's eyes widen in shock. "Hanamiya Makoto? Are you out of your mind? Sei-chan! I think Eikichi has mad cow disease. He says he likes Hanamiya!"

Eikichi really wants to bang his head repeatedly on the table.

* * *

134\. Annoyingly Persistent (Takao Kazunari/Hanamiya Makoto)

Makoto doesn't want to go on a date with this kid he barely knows—what he does know is the kid is annoying and can't fucking take a hint. Makoto doesn't like him, has elbowed him and ignored him and pinched him and through it all Takao has kept on talking. What might be even more annoying is how smart and on point some of his observations are and how cute he most definitely is not. No way. And he just had to fucking yell out so that everyone could hear it that he wanted to go on a date with Makoto, and so of course Furuhashi is making sure Makoto goes on that date. Yamazaki is helping him, mostly because he doesn't want to go to practice and they won't have practice if the coach is on a date. Seriously, he does not want to do this. It's so stupid. It's going to be…that kid calls him Mako-chan and that's not okay.

Somehow, he ends up at the café, both of his teammates holding him in place until Takao arrives. He's beaming as he walks up, and gives Yamazaki and Furuhashi knowing glances. "Thank you so much for waiting with Mako-chan!"

"Hey, no problem. Take good care of him," says Yamazaki. Makoto yells that they're horrible teammates as they walk away, but they just ignore him.

Then Takao hugs him. Makoto stiffens, but Takao doesn't seem to mind—he just hugs him tighter. "It's really good to see you again, Mako-chan."

Makoto kicks him in the shins.

Takao chatters away over the coffee they share (Makoto makes sure to drop multiple snide remarks about the amount of milk and sugar he puts in it) about school, basketball, the weather, and politics, attempting to play footsie under the table as Makoto furiously kicks his feet away. Still, even as he kicks and reminds himself that he wants to get out of here, Makoto can't help but be drawn into the conversation and finds himself in the midst of a spirited discussion about taxes.

The waitress kicks them out when the coffee shop closes; it's cold and dark and Takao huddles closer to Makoto to keep warm, resting his head on Makoto's shoulder and interlocking their hands. Makoto scratches Takao's fingers and jabs his shoulder upward, but that does not deter Takao. He kisses Makoto when they're waiting to cross the street, soft and deep. Makoto bites his tongue.

Takao squeezes his hand.

"Adorable," Makoto mutters.

Takao giggles.

"Like I'd say that, dumbass!"

* * *

135\. Kind of a Girl (Hyuuga Junpei/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

Mibuchi can muscle him out, can grab the ball with her longer reach, can drive past him, beat him in a foot race with her light steps and long strides. She's a little taller than him and she just might be a better shooting guard than Hyuuga. He's not upset about this because she's a girl—he couldn't care less about her gender. At least, that's what he tells himself when she blows him a kiss from across the court, touches him on the shoulder and flutters her eyelashes. She's so familiar with him, and it kind of irks him but he can't take his eyes off of her and he's totally fallen into her trap, for her feminine wiles, can hardly think about shooting a three when she's tossing her hair like that, and he doesn't want to shove her aside because she looks so delicate and fragile even though she's not—she must weigh a hell of a lot more than he does, because she's bowled him over, and he's struggled to keep her legs away from his groin and does not want to be even more inconvenienced than he already has been, and she knows all of this and giggles at him and grabs his hand and he can barely think anymore and he has no fucking right to call himself captain of this squad right now.

It won't matter in a few seconds, though, because Riko's going to fucking murder him. He might as well go out of this world thinking about Mibuchi Reo's infinitely long legs.

* * *

136\. Warning Label (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo, kind of)

He meets the team under less-than-ideal circumstances, travels to Kyoto for the weekend to introduce himself as their new captain. Two of the starters apparently won't be there for family obligations, but one of them is the point guard so perhaps that's for the best. The other is the shooting guard—it's a pity; he was looking forward to meeting the only female Uncrowned King. He'd played against her a couple of years ago, and she was fairly strong, but he can't really remember much else about her. (Of course, he was different then.)

After observing the practice, he meets with the other two Uncrowned Kings, Eikichi and Kotarou. They seem willing to accept him as their captain, and though Kotarou might be a tad too energetic it's part of his basketball strength so tempering that tendency would be a bad thing. It seems fairly straightforward.

"Oh, I should warn you about Reo-nee," Kotarou says. "She's…" He pauses, taps his chin. "A bit of a handful."

Eikichi snorts. "What, and you aren't?"

Kotarou laughs. "You know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I don't," Akashi says.

"Reo-nee is Reo-nee," Kotarou says. "It's hard to explain. Just…be ready."

"Thank you," Akashi says. "I'm sure I will."

He's not afraid of this unknown quantity. Rather, it may present itself as a challenge, at least for a brief period. But no amount of preparation can truly be enough for the moment she catches his eye and turns around, blushing under his unwavering gaze—nothing can prepare him for how much he cannot look away from her. (Something tells him that this is not what Kotarou warned him about.)

* * *

137\. Tutoring (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

This has to be the third time this afternoon Midorima has tried to explain the FOIL method. This is basic; Aomine should know this already—Midorima's grumbled to him many times about how he doesn't know how Aomine passed middle school math. Aomine doesn't either, probably a mix of luck and athlete's privilege if he has to make a guess. The thing is, it's hard to concentrate when Midorima's sitting beside him and his hand is a hair's breadth from Aomine's on the paper and his pretty eyes are narrowed in concentration and his impatient voice is softening as he explains and Aomine can smell the peppermint gum on his breath and the light coming through the window throws these beautiful shadows onto Midorima's face. Why the hell should he look at numbers when he has this right in front of him?

Aomine drapes his arm around Midorima's shoulder and kisses him on the jaw.

"You're not paying attention, are you?" Midorima says, irritated. "I'm not going to explain this to you again."

"It's your fault I can't concentrate. Stop being so damn hot."

"Flattery won't increase your test scores," Midorima says, lips barely quirking upward. He's bad at hiding how pleased he is; and he damn well should be happy about compliments, especially when they're true. He's such an idiot sometimes, but Aomine supposes he can't really talk.

* * *

138\. Consultation (Mayuzumi Chihiro/fem!Izuki Shun)

She pats the bird's beak and it bow it's head in sympathy with her.

"I mean…things with him aren't exactly…Mayuzooming along," she says. "But he's a gentleman about the whole thing."

The bird ruffles its feathers and cocks its head.

"I don't know," she says. "I get scared of my feelings sometimes, you know? Like I'm just a girl and he's just a guy, but this is…huge. Or something." Why are words failing her here? She can usually find the perfect, most specific pun, but now she can only speak in the general sense. It's frustrating.

He nibbles on her finger, and she smiles anyway.

* * *

139\. Too Little Grace (Midorima Shintarou/fem!Miyaji Kiyoshi)

He likes older women, yes, but not her. She's rough and messy and violent and not graceful or feminine or ladylike. She's got legitimate biceps, not big guns like Ootsubo or anything, but she doesn't have delicate arms; they're big and they're scarred. She walks like a man, long loping strides, and doesn't get out of the way, pushing her own damn way through. She calls him names and threatens to murder him daily, and she swears like a sailor. The scowl on her face is not beautiful or lovely or cute; she's taller than the average man—there's no way she can be cute.

So he really can't explain why his heart beats fast and the temperature rises whenever she enters the room—it's not like he's scared of her or really intimidated by her. He can't explain why he has the urge to go harder at the end of practice, when it's just the two of them, him taking his five hundred extra shots and her doing suicides until she looks like she's about to drop but still walks without swaying or falling. (Why is he afraid that she might fall? Why does he want to catch her?) He can't explain his sharp intake of breath when she pushes her hair behind her ear and exposes that smooth jawline. He can't explain why he can't look away from her as she grabs a rebound, sweat pouring off of her, wild grimace on her face.

* * *

140\. At the Register (Hayama Kotarou/fem!Miyaji Kiyoshi)

The day has actually been going pretty well. She's sold a bunch of food, managed not to break the cash register or threaten any annoying little brats, and no crazy customers have come in.

Well, apparently she's thought too soon because the bell on the door rings and Hayama Kotarou walks in. She tries to duck behind the register, but she's way too tall. She can't escape his gaze, anyway.

"Miyaji-san! You work here? I'm so happy!" He runs up to the register, and luckily the counter is too wide for him to fling his arms around her. He starts to climb up and she shoves him to the floor.

"No climbing on the furniture. I'll kick you out."

"Aww, no, Miyaji-san. I'll buy stuff, I promise!" He picks up a chocolate bar. "How much?"

Where the hell is Shinsuke when she needs him? "240 yen."

Hayama pulls out a few wadded-up bills, but instead of dropping them in her hand or on the counter he grabs her hand and won't let go. "Let's hold hands for a while, okay?"

She tries to yank her hand away, but his grip is too strong. "Let go!" She glares at him. He leans over the counter and puckers his lips, and she punches him in the nose with her free hand, and then deposits the money in the cash register.

"Here's your change. Don't come back."

He starts unwrapping the chocolate bar. "Let me feed it to you!"

"Ew, fuck no! Get out! You can't open items in the store."

"Aww, please, Miyaji-san?"

Ugh. She can't believe she just thought that creepy as fuck stare was cute, even if it was just for a moment. She sighs and leans on the counter. Before she can stand up, he crawls on top of it again and kisses her.

She gets docked pay for the jar of pickles she breaks over his head, but at least she gets out of working the register for the rest of the day.

* * *

141\. Stir (Mayuzumi Chihiro/fem!Izuki Shun)

The wind ruffles her hair and she scoots closer to him on the porch swing, closing her eyes and resting her head on his shoulder. He flips the page of his book and smiles. She's had basketball practice all day, only had time to come over this evening already half-dead with exhaustion but wanting to spend as much time with him as possible, even if she falls asleep. He brushes the bangs from her eyes and kisses her on the forehead.

"Was that kiss kismet?" she murmurs. Her puns get even worse and more nonsensical when she's tired; he can't help but laugh.

* * *

142\. Everything Changes (Shirogane Eiji/Araki Masako)

He ends up in Kyoto, at Rakuzan, where there's an open spot coaching boys' basketball—he gladly takes it. Apparently, some of his former teammates are also coaching. Genta's gotten sloppy and never shaves; Katsunori still plays with his hair constantly. Then, he sees her—Masako. She's grown out her hair and has traded in the motorcycle jackets and long skirts for pantsuits and heels. It suits her, he realizes. She still has the same old scowl on her face, and it brings him back, more than Genta's whining or Katsunori's smirks, back to a simpler time when they weren't bossing around know-it-all kids or having trouble keeping up with their previous workout pace, when improving their already top-tier skill level was expected. Still, they're different now; they're older, now. He wants to run over her and clasp her hand, but his knees are creaking and he knows the move is highly inappropriate. When they were younger, he never felt attracted to her, but now…things change. People change. Everything changes. She sees him and smiles, face lighting up like a chandelier, dazzling and he's got it bad now, and maybe he's always had some kind of latent feelings for her and they're all rising to the top at once and overwhelming him.

* * *

143\. Despite (fem!Hanamiya Makoto/Kiyoshi Teppei)

She sits beside him on the bench, so much smaller and deadlier than him. He looks at his hands; he could break her arm if he gripped it too tightly. But the thought of breaking something that beautiful makes his breath catch in his throat, and then he wonders how ugly he must be for her to have broken him as badly as she did. But she doesn't operate the way he does, hates beauty and perfection and flawlessness, searches for the fault lines in everyone and everything, slams down her elbow like the hammer of equalizing justice—how can she be this way when she is so beautiful herself?

She carries herself with a haughty air, but not an air of one who knows she is beautiful. It's not as if she denies it, she just doesn't realize it. The innocence and naiveté in that—that woman who has twisted him, broken him beyond repair, who leaves an intentional path of destruction in her wake—she is still pure somehow. How is this possible? How can she know the perfect way to jam her shoulder in a man's solar plexus, but not the graceful slope these shoulders make when at rest? How can she see with these large, dark eyes the destruction she is causing without knowing their beauty? All he knows is that she's impossible, and she's getting more and more beautiful all the time.

* * *

144\. Kinks (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo, ft kiseki etc)

"It's not like Akashi-kun to be late," Kuroko says, frowning.

"Ah, Tetsu, how little you know," says Aomine. Kuroko glares at him. "See, when a guy gets a girlfriend and that guy is Akashi, there's no way they don't have a hell of a lot of kinky sex. That's what they're doing."

Kise grins. "Yeah, I can see Akashicchi as the dominating type."

"You  _can_  see him that way?" Midorima asks.

"Aka-chin's probably into bloodplay," says Murasakibara.

Momoi almost chokes on her tea. "Mukkun? You know about…those things?"

"How does Mibuchi-san put up with it, anyway?" says Kise. "You know whatever kind of weird kinks he has he's going to go all-out."

"Eh, she seems pretty tough," says Aomine. "Just ask her yourself."

"Maybe you're okay with Akashi murdering you," says Midorima. "But I am not."

Aomine shrugs. "He'll have to go take a shit or something. Ask her then."

As if on cue, the door to the café opens and Akashi and Mibuchi step inside.

"You're late, Akashi-kun," says Kuroko.

Akashi ignores him and sits down, not before pulling out Mibuchi's chair for her.

After they're done eating, Akashi stands up to go to the bathroom. Aomine flashes a triumphant grin. Once he's out of earshot, Kise speaks.

"So, Mibuchi-san, how do you deal with Akashicchi's kinks?"

She cocks her head. "It's not a big deal. Our kinks are the same, so we're very sexually compatible."

Midorima's the one who's choking this time.

Mibuchi grins. "You weren't expecting that, were you?"

* * *

145\. Stop It (Hayama Kotarou/fem!Miyaji Kiyoshi)

He's so damn annoying and pushy and always in her face and yelling about how much he loves her and he barely knows her, okay? He's overbearing and won't take no for an answer and his laugh is too loud but for some reason she finds him utterly charming and it's driving her up the goddamn wall. His big eyes are actually kind of nice-looking and he's wiry but well-built, and his short red hair is fluffy and looks so soft that she's had to yank her hand back from reaching out and touching it. It's really not okay. She wants to hate him, she really does, but no guy has ever told her he loves her before, and she can tell he's actually quite serious about this. He's over-the-top and too loud and he plays on another team and he's better at her than basketball, but somehow she can't bring herself to hate him. Her resistance is crumbling fast, and she's trying to hold on, but it's impossible to not enjoy the way he throws his arms around her and buries his face in her neck and she's already waiting a fraction of a second before shoving him away. Fuck.

* * *

146\. Innuendo (Mayuzumi Chihiro/fem!Izuki Shun)

Izuki's giggling like a lunatic—how much has she had to drink? Her eyes are glazed over and she's slumped against Mayuzumi's shoulder, clutching at his arm but misjudging the distance between them and ends up poking his back.

"Mayuzumi-san," she says, and then falls into giggles again. To be honest, he's a bit taken aback by her forwardness—she does realize they're not alone, doesn't she?

"Mayuzumi-san, can I take a drink from your…highball glass?" She hiccups and giggles and then squeezes his arm.

He's not sure if that's supposed to be a pun or an innuendo or what. "Izuki-san, you really shouldn't be drinking anything right now other than water."

"Aww, Mayuzumi-san…you're such a gentleman, but I bet you're not a gentle man in bed…" She rubs her face in his sleeve. "Mm. You smell good."

He sends a hail-Mary glance Hyuuga's way and succeeds in catching his eye.

"Is she…?" he says.

Mayuzumi nods.

"Oi, Izuki," Hyuuga says. "If you're too hung over to practice tomorrow you're going to have to stay afterward and clean up the locker room, right?"

"I don't care," she says. "I bet Mayuzumi's really hung…over…" She dissolves into giggling.

"That one barely made any damn sense. I fucking swear, Izuki." He turns to Mayuzumi. "I really am sorry about her. I didn't know she was going to get this drunk."

Mayuzumi shrugs. "It's actually a bit amusing."

"You're amusing," Izuki says, and then closes her eyes and falls into his lap.

* * *

147\. Lesson (Izuki Shun/fem!Akashi Seijuurou)

Akashi crosses her arms over her chest and stares up at him, appraising him for a new purpose. "Shun," she says. "You need to learn proper table manners."

He feels a little bit insulted by this (she has a knack for making him feel insulted, though, and he's still not used to it) but lets her continue. It's no use talking back. "My father has requested dinner with you, and I don't want you to make a bad impression."

He draws in a breath. He doesn't know much about her father, but from what Kuroko's told him and what Akashi herself has insinuated, he should probably be terrified. (The fact that he's a single man who controls a large portion of the country's economy and that he's dating his only daughter should probably be enough to terrify him in the first place, but he's always been a bit foolishly brave.)

"Also," she says. "No puns."

Shit. This is going to be bad. But the way she holds his hands when it's not strictly necessary to show him the proper way to grip each utensil and the care she takes in making sure he gets it absolutely right—that's her way of saying she wants him to impress her father, that she doesn't want to just throw him to the wolves. In the end, he catches her hand and pulls her into a kiss and she allows it, scrapes her teeth along his tongue and grabs his other hand.

* * *

148\. Missing (Takao Kazunari/Hanamiya Makoto) warning: character death

It takes a while for the anger to subside, and it never truly leaves, anger at Takao for leaving and anger at him for leaving Makoto with nothing other than old clothes and a few coffee mugs, anger at the drunk driver, anger at the hospital people for not saving him—this world is full of incompetent fools; a life can be smothered in an instant, a body twisted from beyond repair—Makoto knows this from being on the other side, twisting and bending and breaking flesh and bones. His stomach twists and he feels like he wants to vomit, and sometimes he does but there's no one to hold his head and soothe him afterward. He wants to be alone but he wants to be with people and he's searching for something, someone who's not there, who will never be there again, wakes up alone in the middle of the night and the bed is too damn big so eventually he replaces it with a smaller one (even though he's slept on a king-size since middle school). He's used to being able to buy or create anything he wants to; he's always viewed the world as limitless—he is the one who imposes these arbitrary limits on people. But he can't recreate the same warm laughter or the quickness of those deft hands; he can't find anything to mimic the lips on his throat (he doesn't trust anyone else's lips on his throat) or the skin underneath his nails. He's angry at himself for loving someone; love is irrational and stupid and has fucked his life up completely. He's broken everything around him and foolishly thought he was bulletproof, but somehow he's now lying in pieces on the floor.

* * *

149\. Tease (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

"What do you know about Hanamiya Makoto?" Akashi asks them all. "I know she is an Uncrowned King, highly intelligent, captain and coach of Kirisaki Daiichi."

"She's hot; I'd tap that."

"Thank you for your input, Eikcihi," Akashi says. "Reo? Kotarou?"

"She's dirty," Hayama says.

"Oh?" Akashi says.

"Not like that! Mako-chan is a very dirty  _basketball player_ ," Reo says.

"Oh? No, Reo, I'm sorry; I don't have that kind of interest in Hanamiya. She's all yours if you want her."

"No!" Reo blushes and waves her hands. Damn it, that's not what she's jealous about. "I'm straight!"

Akashi chuckles. "No, it's all right, Reo. We're open-minded individuals."

She opens and shuts her mouth a few times. Wait…is he teasing her? She crosses her arms over her chest and huffs.

"Ha!" Kotarou says. "You should have seen your face, Reo-nee. Nice one, Captain."

He places his hand on her shoulder and oh, she could just about die right now. "I'm sorry, Reo. Do you forgive me?" He's smiling at her and it's all too much. She'd forgive him of anything, and he probably knows that already.

"You're just awful, Sei-chan," she says.

He laughs again. It's such a wonderful sound.

* * *

150\. Gentleman (Mayuzumi Chihiro/fem!Izuki Shun)

He's treating her kindly; he smiles at her and holds the door for her and makes her feel like a lady—her! She's such a tomboy, but he makes sure she knows he knows she's a woman, compliments her appearance and listens to her talk, tells her about the books he's reading with a smile when she asks.

But he's this way with everyone; he pulls out the chair for Riko and moves aside for random girls on the street to pass; he's just a considerate guy. She wants to be  _special_ , not just another girl who he's being nice to for the sake of politeness. She wants him to give him a smile he reserves for no one else, wants him to let her borrow his books, wants to make him laugh more than she wants to make anyone else laugh. Every time he smiles at her, her heart plummets; she desperately wants to believe he likes her but is too afraid that she's clinging to false hope.

* * *

151\. Overprotective (Mayuzumi Chihiro/fem!Izuki Shun ft Teppei)

It's unusual that Kiyoshi comes to talk her with a grave expression on his face. He's such a happy guy most of the time, and as far as Izuki knows nothing has happened.

What is it that you need to talk about? Is it a bout between some of the guys on the team? I thought we were all getting along."

Kiyoshi sighs. "I don't want you getting hurt."

"What?"

"You know," he says. "I really don't think you should go on this date Mayuzumi-san." He holds up a hand before she starts to protest. "He has creepy eyes, Izuki!"

"That's it? That's your reason?"

Kiyoshi nods. He's completely serious. Goddamn it. Why is he so insistent on the weirdest things?

"His eyes aren't creepy, Kiyoshi. You just haven't seen him smile. Besides, he's a total gentleman. He's kind and considerate and smart and I really like him."

Kiyoshi smiles. "Well, then. Let me chaperone your date."

"What."

* * *

152\. Grocery Shopping (Nebuya Eikichi/Hanamiya Makoto)

Makoto smacks Eikichi on the arm. "Damn it, Eikichi, don't get so many protein shakes!"

"Why not? I'm going to drink 'em, anyway, and they're on sale."

Makoto rolls his eyes and mutters something about gorillas under his breath. He glances down at the list and starts to walk on to the next location, Eikichi trailing behind and carrying the basket.

"Get me that can of beans." He points to the top shelf.

Eikichi obliges, grabbing the bottom can on the shelf. The can on top of that tips dangerously and falls until Eikichi grabs it in midair with his other hand.

"That could have fallen on my head," Makoto snaps.

"Yeah, well," Eikichi says. "It didn't. Besides, it's not like you haven't hit me with worse things."

Makoto ignores him until he needs Eikichi's help with reaching the vinegar, but this time he retreats to the other side of the aisle. Eikichi rolls his eyes and considers dumping the entire shopping basket over Makoto's head. It probably won't be worth it, though, especially not if he has to pick up everything. He manages to clip Makoto's arm with the shopping cart, leaving a white scratch on his skin that he frowns at. Eikichi's going to get it later, but he would have anyway.

He carries the bags home, all four on one arm, to show his strength.

"Oh, Eikichi, you're so strong," Makoto says.

Eikichi shrugs. "I know."

"Like I'd say that, dumbass."

Eikichi doesn't bother trying not to roll his eyes.

Makoto shoves him against the wall in the foyer and kisses him roughly. Eikichi's still carrying the groceries but he doesn't mind. He's about to lift up Makoto, too, when Makoto pulls away.

"Your beard's too rough."

Whatever. Finicky bastard. (Eikichi still gives his ass a squeeze when he walks by, and the punch he receives in return has no impact.)

* * *

153\. Faint Kiss (Kasuga Ryuuhei/fem!Izuki Shun)

They line up and bow after the match, but the Seihou point guard calls out her name.

She whips around. "Yeah?"

He grins at her. "You're a really good player. And you're cute, too."

What? She blinks at him, at a bit of a loss for words.

Then he kisses her swiftly on the mouth. "We should go out sometime. I'll give you a call."

He doesn't even have her number. That's the last distinct thought she has, as the impact of his lips finally sinks in. She reaches her fingers up to her mouth and a silly smile spreads across her face.

"Oi, Kasuga, I'll kick your ass!" Hyuuga starts to run after him.

"It's a pity he won't live until tomorrow. He was a good point guard," Kuroko says.

"It would be a shame if somehow his legs got broken and he couldn't do the Nanba run anymore," says Riko.

"Senpai! Are you all right?" Fukuda hurries over to her.

"Yes…I'm fine…you guys should stop," she says, steadying herself on Fukuda's shoulder. "I thought I might faint for a second…although it was only a faint meeting of our lips."

"Guys, she's okay! She's making bad puns again," Fukuda says.

"I don't care," says Koganei. "He's going to pay."

Izuki sighs and grins harder.

* * *

154\. Holding (Susa Yoshinori/Kobori Kouji)

Just because Susa's quiet doesn't mean he's immune to emotions. Just because he's big doesn't mean he's immune to the cold. It takes one to know one, and Kobori understands the ways he's usually misunderstood. Susa doesn't expect to be held like this, coming in from the cold and taking off his jacket and shrugging his shoulders to warm his neck even in the heated apartment as a preemptive measure. Kobori heats him up, wraps his arms around Susa's body and squeezes tightly around his cold arms and neck.

In return, Susa squeezes back and murmurs, "Thanks, Kouji," and kisses the place where Kobori's shoulder meets his neck and Kobori's never had anyone to do that for him because they'd always assumed that he was a strong man who didn't appreciate little gestures like that. But Susa gets him.

* * *

155\. Boiled Tofu (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Izuki Shun)

He's not nervous about meeting her family; he never gets nervous. He's not sure what to expect, but he's confident that whatever happens he'll be prepared. Shun's mother and sisters greet him warmly and with puns (theirs are considerably funnier than Shun's, actually) and they seem to be what he supposes one would call normal. Her sisters compliment his appearance and tell her that they've heard so much about him from Shun.

"Good things, I hope?" Akashi says.

They dissolve into giggles.

"I can't believe Shun was keeping such a cute boy all to herself," his mother says.

Shun blushes and rolls her eyes, and Akashi smiles and clutches her hand.

Dinner is rather nice; her mother made boiled tofu—she says that Shun told her it was Akashi's favorite and she hopes she didn't mess up. It's simple, and the atmosphere of the cozy, well-lit dining room is a considerable contrast to Akashi's many tense five-course meals with his father.

"What's your family like, Akashi-san?" the youngest sister asks. She yelps as Shun shoots her a dirty look and has seemingly kicked her under the table.

Akashi knows it might be a bit of an awkward question, but it's not something he really minds. It just is what it is; his father is who he is. He pats Shun on the thigh. "I live with my father, and he works late often, so most of the time I'm alone. It's very interesting to see how other families…interact."

"Oh, that must be so lonely!" the youngest sister says. Shun kicks her again.

Akashi shrugs. "That's the way it's always been."

"Well, Akashi-kun, you're always welcome here," Shun's mother says. "Bring your father, too, if he's not working. Of course, if that doesn't work out…" she shrugs.

Actually, that wouldn't be a bad idea. Shun's mother is warm and kind; it's obvious even though this is the first time they've met. Shun is clearly her son, and not just because of the puns. His father may disapprove of their lower economic status and their small home, but they're good people who live within their means. Surely even his father might appreciate that? (He grudgingly gave his approval of Shun after their one and only meeting, after all.)

(-)

"I'm sorry about my family," Shun says as they wait outside for the car to come and pick her up.

"Whatever for?" he says in surprise. "Please thank them again for me for a wonderful dinner."

"God, I love you," she whispers as she leans up to kiss him.

* * *

156\. Leave Me Alone (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

He tries to step away, but Aomine grabs his arm. "Hey."

Midorima jerks it away, elbowing Aomine in the shoulder. He doesn't apologize. "I'm fine. Just because my wrist is sprained doesn't mean I'm totally helpless." He pushes up his glasses with his good arm.

"I'm not saying you're totally helpless!" Aomine holds up his arms in a defensive position. "I'm your boyfriend and I just want to…"

"What, help me? Just leave me alone."

He's being unreasonable, but as much as Aomine is tempted to get into it with him this really isn't the time and it'll only make them both feel worse. Midorima turns away, and Aomine touches his shoulder. "Just let me stay with you."

Midorima stiffens and brings up his hand to shove Aomine away, but then lowers it. "I…" his shoulders slump. "I'm sorry."

Aomine cautiously moves his shoulder over between Midorima's shoulder blades and rubs his back. Midorima frowns. Aomine cups his cheek with his other hand. He knows Midorima's instinct is to shove him away and to shut him out, to deal with things on his own and take all the blame. Aomine's worked too damn hard, gotten his foot slammed in the door too many times, to just let it all slip away like this.

* * *

157\. Stalker (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo, Hayama Kotarou/fem!Miyaji Kiyoshi)

Kotarou shrugs. "Basically, Reo-nee, you're stalking him."

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, right. You text that Shutoku girl all day and try to call her on Skype every night and go down to Tokyo to see her every weekend. If anyone's a stalker here, it's you."

"I'm just trying to win her heart!" he says. "Besides, if Akashi lived in Tokyo you'd get the train down every day and come back every morning."

"I would not! So what if I like him and I want to show him? It's not like he's telling me to go away or, you know, throwing watermelons at me."

"That's just how Miyaji-san shows her affection."

"Kotarou, she told you she hated you and threatened to run you over with a truck." Reo crosses her arms.

"She's just a tsundere."

"Where's the deredere side? She punches you in the gut whenever you try to hug her."

"Whatever," Kotarou says. "This isn't about me. This is about you and Akashi. Seriously, he doesn't need you smothering him all the time."

Her cheeks are scarlet. "I am not smothering him!"

"He's not a fragile little thing who needs your help with everything."

"Sei-chan appreciates my assistance! He said so himself."

"It's true." Akashi leans on the doorframe. "Reo, come here for a second, I need your help with paperwork."

She sticks her tongue out at Kotarou before skipping off after Akashi.

* * *

158\. Freak Out (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Izuki Shun)

The Seirin basketball team's post-practice dinner is quiet tonight; Izuki Shun isn't telling her usual puns but is glancing at her phone every few seconds.

"Who are you texting?" Koganei asks, leaning over the table to glance at the screen of her phone.

"My boyfriend," she says.

"Excuse me," says Hyuuga. "What did you say?"

She places her phone in her lap and looks up. "My. Boyfriend. Akashi Seijuurou."

"Jesus, Izuki, I know I've said your puns aren't funny, but this is even less funny," Hyuuga says.

"I'm not joking," she says.

"So then why the hell didn't you tell us?" Kagami asks. "And why are you dating a bastard like that?"

Izuki rolls her eyes. "I knew you guys would do this."

"Do what?" Hyuuga says. "You can't date him! He'll break your heart and break your ankles."

"Izuki, you shouldn't fraternize with the enemy," Riko says.

"I really don't know what you see in Akashi-kun," says Kuroko.

"He's a gentleman," says Izuki. "He bought me fancy chocolates."

"Kiyoshi will buy you fancy chocolates! Then you can go out with him!" says Hyuuga frantically.

Izuki sighs.

(-)

Nebuya's not expecting a call from Kiyoshi after practice that night. He knows him well enough, but this seems kind of random. "Yeah, what's up?"

"Our point guard is dating your point guard!"

"Kiyoshi, are you serious? You do mean that eagle girl, right?"

"Yes, Izuki. She says she's dating Akashi."

Nebuya sighs. Who cares? "Akashi, is it true you're dating that eagle girl from Seirin?"

"Yes," he says. "I rather enjoy Shun's company."

Reo and Kotarou are frozen in…horror? Shock? Something. And then, in a minute, they're yapping in Akashi's face. Akashi glares at Nebuya, and he only shrugs.

* * *

159\. Just How Hot (Nebuya Eikichi/fem!Hanamiya Makoto)

Eikichi forgets exactly how small she is sometimes when they don't see each other for a few weeks; he cups her breasts in his hands, and she scowls up at him—they say the girl you love can light up the room with her smile but Makoto's frown, lips pouted and face flushed and eyebrows knitted—god, it's beautiful. He kisses her small mouth; his hands cross the short span between her breasts and her hipbones, and when he holds her hips his thumbs graze her firm abdomen, her muscles contracting from the sudden sensation. She bites his lip, small teeth sharp enough to draw blood, and the nails on her short, thin fingers dig into his back. Her breaths are short and shuddery—he winds a hand through her hair; it falls below her shoulders but he can't wind it a full length around his hand, but she doesn't like him touching her neck, grabs his hand and twists it and moves it down bback to her hip. He thumbs the inside of her thigh and her back arches; she growls his name.

He marvels that his fingers fit so deep inside of her; she rolls her eyes and tells him to add another finger, and she rolls her hips against his hand steadily until she comes, hot and sticky and shaking. She rides him and shoves an elbow into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. He struggles to find his breath and she keeps moving on top of him, climaxing again and slumping on top of his chest. The muscles on her back ripple beautifully; she is, after all, a first-rate athlete. When he finally catches his breath he flips her over and she lets him finish and cover her with his body for a brief moment until she throws him off and his foot slams against the foot of her bed.

When he's alone, he finds himself tracing the small but deep and bruising bite marks in his skin and thinking of the perfect white teeth that made them and the gorgeous, vicious woman who closes her jaw on his shoulder.


	11. Chapter 11

160\. Nails (Imayoshi Shouichi/Sakurai Ryou)

Sakurai forgets to cut his nails sometimes, and Imayoshi's rough and Sakurai clings to his back and digs in his fingers and his nails cut across thin layers of skin, hands tensing up when he realizes what he's done and fitting in apologies in the spaces between shallow breaths and heavy moans until Imayoshi silences them all with his slippery mouth. When they're finished, Imayoshi shrugs off the blankets and exposes his back to Sakurai's eyes. The red lines are fading to a paler shade of pink.

Imayoshi puts his glasses back on his face, and from the way his closed eyes look through the glass Sakurai can tell that if he'd drawn blood he would have had to disinfect the wounds and then Imayoshi would have punished him further. The thought of it makes him squeeze his eyes shut and stutter out another apology. Imayoshi lets his hand rest on the small of Sakurai's back and he sleeps, glasses still on his face.

* * *

161\. Bells (Okamura Kenichi/Himuro Tatsuya)

The church bells ring in the distance; the sound is muffled by the distance and the wind and the snow that bogs down every surface and isolates everything. Even so close to the buildings, the two of them cannot be seen, dark coats blending in with the snow-streaked foliage in the midwinter darkness. Hand touches hand within Okamura's large pockets; Okamura's palms envelop Himuro's much smaller hands and radiate a comforting, pulsing heat. Himuro stands on his tiptoes to kiss Okamura's lips, and even after…how long has it been? (Time seems to flow oddly here.) Even after they've lost count of the number of times their lips have met, Okamura somehow seems shocked, though the confused disbelief on his face is incredibly endearing. (Himuro can wait a few moments for him to lean down and kiss back. It's worth it.)

* * *

162\. Sloppy Drunks (Nebuya Eikichi/Hanamiya Makoto)

Makoto wakes up every day and curses being born this short. Technically, he's on the taller end of things but not when he's around other basketball players. It's an unpleasant situation to be surrounded by people seven, ten, fifteen centimeters taller than him who look down at him and lean down to hear what he says. It's also annoying when they drink, because everyone else's tolerance is way too damn high. He's already having trouble standing and he's had much less than everyone else, probably a fifth of what Eikichi's had (but then he takes everything to excess) and they all seem fine.

He really needs to piss right now but he can't get up, knows he'll feel the vertigo and stagger and oh god they'll laugh at him—they're probably laughing at him now, anyway (he can't be bothered to listen to their conversation; it's probably stupid anyway). He stands up, leans on the table. They don't appear to notice him. Interesting. He trudges off in the direction of the bathroom, swaying his arms to keep himself balanced.

When he comes back, he feels only a bit better, more comfortable—but also more tired. He misjudges the distance between himself and Eikichi, and instead of placing his hand on his seat it falls on Eikichi's leg. Eikichi's chugging yet another can of beer, and this doesn't interrupt him—but when he finishes he slams the can on the table and looks at Makoto and kind of half-grins.

"Oh?" He pulls Makoto onto his lap and Makoto tries to scratch at his hands but he just cut his nails yesterday and Eikichi's got him securely fastened with his arm that has to be twice as wide as one of Makoto's and Makoto has probably never felt this small.

Eikichi leans down and presses his lips to Makoto's and it's slobbery and disgusting and Makoto wants to move backward but his head is already pressed against Eikichi's chest. Eikichi tastes like cheap American beer and the skin around his mouth is sweaty but somehow Makoto doesn't find it all that bad. It's easier to just let his tongue loll about in Eikichi's mouth and let Eikichi take the lead. At this point Makoto finds that he really doesn't care enough about anything—that he doesn't particularly like Eikcihi, that they're in public, that this is disgusting—to stop.

* * *

163\. Irritatingly Irresistible (Hayama Kotarou/fem!Miyaji Kiyoshi)

Miyaji is this close to throwing the book across the room. No matter how many times she looks over the problem, the math just looks too foreign to her. Fuck. She's never going to get into college like this if she just gives up—so she slams it hard on the library table, receiving glares from her fellow seniors and the librarians (not that she's looking at them, too busy staring down the formulas and problems). She's just about got it, is finally making her way through the haze of numbers and variables when she feels a sudden weight on her back and her head slams forward into the desk.

"Miyaji-san! I found you!"

"This is a library, damn brat!" she hisses.

It's too little, too late, though, because the librarian's been watching her closely after her latest display of frustration and immediately grins at her and points to the door. She gestures wildly at the redheaded boy who is hanging off of her neck, but the librarian continues to point. Sighing (it's not like she's going to get back to that perfect place near math nirvana now) she gathers her stuff and drags Hayama into the hallway.

She slams the door to the library behind her, almost catching Hayama's foot in it, and then slams him into the floor, holding his chest down with her foot as he grabs at her leg.

"Why the hell are you here? Why the hell aren't you in Kyoto? And why the hell are you bothering me when I'm studying for college entrance exams?"

He's still smiling. Does every word she says go in one ear and out the other? "I'm here for moral support!" he says.

"Don't you listen to a fucking word I say? I keep telling you to go away. It would  _support_  me if you went home and left me in peace. My life was way better before you were around."

He looks absolutely crestfallen, and for a second she feels maybe a bit guilty and lessens the pressure of her foot grinding into his chest. He uses the opportunity to spring up, upending her in the process but catching her right before she falls.

"That's what I love the most about you, baby," he says, burying his face in her neck.

She knees him in the groin. "Damn brat! I'm older than you and taller than you, so don't you dare call me baby if you value your life."

Again, he stands up. What the hell is with him? He actually looks kind of sheepish this time, but she knows better than to expect it to have any effect on his behavior. He wraps his arm around her waist and she's going to push him away but the look of utter contentment on his face is actually kind of…cute. Well, she's not going to let him do anything else, but as long as he stays like this it might be okay. She doesn't really like doing work in the library anyway.

* * *

164\. Gravity (Himuro Tatsuya/Fukui Kensuke)

The weight of each other makes them fall (so to speak) right into gravity's trap and they sink deep into the worn-out mattress on Fukui's dorm bed, their combined weight enough to make the frame groan (and in the scheme of things, neither of them is all that heavy). They're at the point where their limbs are tangled and their sweat is mingling into a sheen on one another's skin and they're both wise enough to know that words are out of place here. They live by their words, yeah—but dirty talk is empty and right now they are so full of emotion and want and the balance is so delicate, until they go crashing back, Fukui on top of Himuro, teeth on a toned bicep and abs flinching from the proximity to Himuro's groin.

* * *

165\. Guard (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

It's hard to sense the tension now, the slight stiffening of Midorima's muscles and then the immediate relaxation into Aomine's skin. It's hard sometimes—it's hard for Aomine to deal with this, this waiting (patience has never been his strong suit). It's a lot better than it was at first—even when Midorima would claim to be relaxed, that he was trying his best, he still froze up under Aomine's touch, stopped breathing when Aomine kissed him. Aomine knows he can be a little overeager, but moving this slowly was torture.

But it was worth it, worth it to take down the walls Midorima had built up carefully brick by brick; it's worth it for the soft smile that awaits him as he manages to bring Midorima's guard down again and again. Little by little, Midorima stops withdrawing as quickly, stops shutting him down immediately, starts to reach out on his own. It's a damn long process; Midorima's been so lonely for so long and he's only just started to form close friendships so Aomine can't reasonably expect him to just rush into love. He knows he's not always the most reassuring, a click of the tongue or a roll of the eyes and he says that it's fine a little too hastily even when he means it, and he tries to make up for it by kissing him deeper and slower and looking into his eyes for longer. And even when Midorima flinches and tenses up now, he trusts Aomine absolutely, trusts the words that spill from his lips and the flesh that meets with his.

* * *

166\. Two is Better than One (Kasuga Ryuuhei/fem!Izuki Shun)

It's hard to remember a time when she was lonelier. She'd had friends and family members, sure, but they didn't completely get her the way Kasuga does. He understands her drive to win, to push her limits, to go beyond them. He understands her as a basketball player, as a point guard even. He understands her as a person, in the way she feels she understands him. He's not entirely simple, but not anywhere near the subtle, endlessly complex man that she is beginning to realize only exists in the pages of women's magazines. It's better with him to lean against; it's better to study together; it's better to have him explain the things she doesn't get. It's better to go get coffee or groceries with him, to have someone to talk to and someone to listen to. When they're not together, she has time to be alone, which she definitely needs—but she never feels lonely anymore.

It's more fun, too, to bounce joke ideas off of him and watch his reactions, to hang out with him and his friends and watch him constantly clash with Tsugawa, to hug him from behind and watch him jump up in surprise. It's fun to go places with him; it's more fun to try new things when he's there to try them, too. She can tell he's having fun, too, from the sparkle in his eyes and the way his grin never fades, even when he tries to look serious.

* * *

167\. Fear of Losing (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

Aomine's always kind of had an idea of what love is, but it's not long after he falls in love that he realizes that these preconceived notions are false, empty, incomplete renderings. Love isn't sexual pleasure or plain irrationality or all-consuming desire. Those play their parts, but minor ones in the grand scheme of things.

Love is the courage to grab for his hand before he pulls it away, to pull him closer despite not knowing for sure that this is what he wants; love is taking a gamble on reciprocity. Love is when he wakes up in the middle of the night to find Midorima's arms wrapped around his waist and his shoulder tucked into Midorima's chin and their legs all tangled up. Love is the panic in the voice on the other end of the phone when a cop from his precinct has been shot and it's made the news. Love is the loneliness that Aomine feels when Midorima's been away for a week and a half at a medical conference somewhere halfway around the world, the certainty of knowing that nothing would pull Midorima away willingly mixed with the uncertainty of events beyond both of their control. Love is a compromise, but only so much of one. Love is the way Aomine needs Midorima's presence, his steady hands and his voice and everything about him, and the lengths he will go to secure that.

* * *

168\. Off on the Sounds (Midorima Shintarou/Takao Kazunari)

His unbandaged fingers stroke the underside of Takao's cock and Takao lets loose a guttural sound, muffled by the lips on top of his. Midorima pauses, moves his mouth to the side of Takao's neck and precisely onto the spot that drives Takao wild.

"Shin-chan…" he moans, arching his back and spreading his legs wider. Midorima traces his hands over Takao's thighs and Takao's cock twitches and again he moans.

"You're so impatient," Midorima says between ragged breaths—he tries to hide it but it's obvious that he's as turned on by all this as Takao is. Takao smirks.

Midorima's mouth trails its way down Takao's torso, and Takao wishes he was taller so that this could go on for longer—but at the same time, it's agony. He's waiting for Midorima to settle his head between Takao's legs and it's taking for fucking ever—what sounds is his mouth making?

Midorima takes Takao's cock inside his sweet, wet mouth and for a moment Takao is almost blinded by the suddenness of the sensation. Then, just as quickly, Midorima withdraws his mouth, leaving Takao on the brink and he whines.

"Wait," Midorima hisses, and then he moves his tongue behind Takao's cock and Takao jerks his hips, the skin sensitive even to the touch of skin—Midorima's tongue is overwhelming. Takaotreads his fingers through Midorima's hair and squeezes them together, trying to concentrate on the softness of the strands. Midorima licks all the way back to Takao's hole and then startsmoving it in circles. Taka's grip tightens and the hair is slipping through the sweat on his fingers. He yowls as Midorima's mouth continues its unsteady, unpredictable movement, trying to spread his legs even farther apart, bucking his hips, until he finally climaxes and slackens his grip.

Midorima sits up, flushed and panting—he always claims Takao is lying when Takao says that Midorima gets off purely on Takao's voice, but he really spends too much time in denial for his own good, although that may be one of the tings Takao finds most endearing about him. He pulls Midorima down against his chest and ignores Midorima's quiet complaints about how messy they are.

* * *

168\. Piggy-Back Ride (Takao Kazunari/Hanamiya Makoto)

They argue about Takao being too heavy and then he jumps on anyway and Makoto tries to throw him off but Takao's clinging grip is too strong and Makoto calls him a brat.

Takao flings his arms around Makoto and jumps up, trying to wrap his legs around Makoto's torso. Makoto pushes them off and starts to walk, Takao trailing behind him awkwardly.

"Let go of me."

"Not until after you give me a piggy-back ride!"

"Hell no!"

"Aww, come on, Mako-chan."

"You're too heavy!" He purposely steps backward and onto Takao's foot. "Whoops, my bad."

"You're so mean, Mako-chan. It'll be fun! Or…is it you can't lift me up?" A smile tugs at Takao's lips.

"Idiot, of course I can."

"So then, why don't you?"

Makoto sighs. "Fine."

Takao climbs on, securing his arms and legs around Makoto, feeling Makoto's arms reluctantly supporting his body. He snuggles closer, places his head on Makoto's shoulder and kissing his neck.

"You're heavy," Makoto says.

"You're weak," Takao says.

Makoto drops him, but Takao is ready and lands on his feet. Makoto rubs his back.

"Are you sore? Maybe I can help you with that," Takao says, draping his arm around Makoto's shoulders.

* * *

169\. Everyday Magic (Himuro Tatsuya/Alexandra Garcia)

There's a certain kind of magic that Tatsuya just has—or maybe something that he just is, always has been. He's captivating, beautiful, graceful, even when he's unsure or self-deprecating, his mouth always positioned just so, visible eye always glinting—with amusement or resolve or something else entirely. He fits in Alex's arms just as comfortably as he did when he was a foot shorter than her, and though his voice has gotten deeper and quieter it still sounds beautiful, perhaps even more so now than it did years ago. There's something in the atmosphere, even when he's asleep, with messy hair and a half-smile tugging at his lips, something that she keeps thinking that she's gotten used to, until it takes her by surprise once more. As if sensing her gaze, he stirs and his eyes flutter open. He smiles fully, rolls over half on top of her and puts an arm around her waist and rests his head on her chest. When he lets himself be selfish without worrying about what he ought to do and about anyone judging him, something that most would probably consider mundane—that's real magic, and she falls in love with him all over again.

* * *

170\. The Beach's Fault (Liu Wei/fem!Himuro Tatsuya)

The sun shines off her glossy black hair as she grins and grabs his hand. "Let's go into the water."

He wants to spend a few more minutes just admiring the sun in her hair and that gorgeous, almost carefree smile on her face and the way she looks in a blue bikini, toned legs and firm abs and more cleavage than he realized she had. She'd said she wanted to go to the beach for a day because she was feeling kind of homesick and she already looks so relaxed and happy. He's not sure how this beach compares to Southern California, but as long as she's happy, he's happy, too. Her smiles are rare and so infectious.

She gasps as they step tentatively into the water and then blushes. It is quite cold, although she should probably have prepared herself more.

He picks her up and moves deeper into the water. She laughs and wraps her legs around his torso.

"Your feet are cold," he says.

She kisses his collarbone. The drag of the undertow almost pulls his feet out from under him—yes, it's all the fault of the current. He's too busy placing blame to notice how far out they've gotten or the large wave that's rapidly approaching until it's much too late.

When they resurface, she's treading water and laughing at him, completely soaked but still somehow perfectly arranged. He scowls. It's the damn beach's fault for complementing her so well.

* * *

171\. Destiny Three (Mayuzumi Chihiro/fem!Izuki Shun)

He gets on the train at the stop she gets off, headed to his part-time job (today he has no classes. It must be nice being a university student) as she heads to school. She calls his name and they pass each other in the doorway and he smiles, thumb between the pages of a light novel.

During lunch, she bails on her classmates with an apologetic grin; she needs a study guide for the entrance exams and she's not going to want to go after school. She grabs a soda from Maji and continues to the store at the end of the block. The bell rings as she opens the door, and there he is in the center aisle. She's only half-surprised to see him.

"Another prep book?"

She nods. It's on the top shelf, just beyond her reach. He smiles and stands on his tiptoes to get it down for her and she very openly admires how nice his ass looks in those pants.

"Don't stare, it makes me uncomfortable."

He hands her the book. She raises an eyebrow. He returns to perusing the shelves for something interesting, and she watches for a few more moments, the way his hair falls and covers his flat eyes. Still, she has to get back in time for her next class so she turns and walks to the register.

He finds her in the park after school, taking shots from the free-throw line in her school uniform.

"You know," he says. "I read somewhere that if people meet three times in a day, it's destiny."

"I don't believe in fate," she says, dribbling the ball. "I believe in free will." She shoots. The ball goes cleanly through the net. "But I'd choose you."

"Thanks, I think," he says.

When she kisses him she smells like sweat and fruit. He'd choose her, too.

* * *

172\. Less Than Enough (Akashi Seijuurou/Furihata Kouki)

It was interesting, for a while. It was interesting to feel Kouki's skin shake beneath his touch, to hear Kouki gulp and see him try and sit up straight. It was interesting to hear him stutter and attempt to vocalize his thoughts. But Akashi figured him out quickly, and that was that. What is left? There is nothing, really, only what he has seen already. At first, Kouki was something new and almost exotic, but now he's just another insufficient stopgap, something that will in the long run become inconsequential. It was all right while it lasted, he supposes.

* * *

173\. Pretty Physical (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

Midorima likes to close his eyes when he takes off his glasses because he can't focus without them and all the motion makes him dizzy, even in the dark. His eyelashes cast deep shadows on his cheeks in the moonlight and Aomine's no romantic but he finds it almost entrancing, and then Midorima opens his eyes, breaking the spell, to ask Aomine why he's paused.

He kisses Midorima in response, deep and hungry, and Midorima pulls him closer reflexively before he has time to be ashamed of his desire.

Aomine wonders if Midorima knows how lovely he really is when his toes point and a shudder runs through his entire body and his mouth hangs open when Aomine hits just the right spot with his fingers and he knows Midorima's stretched out enough, if he knows how lovely he really is when he squares his shoulders as Aomine enters him slowly and the thin line of sweat falls down the center of his chest. Does he know how gorgeous the angle between his neck and his chin is, or his hoarse voice as he orgasms? Or when they're basking in the afterglow and he sighs like that?

* * *

174\. Embarrassment (Takao Kazunari/Hanamiya Makoto)

If only Makoto could just walk along in peace, perhaps talking to Takao (despite his mindless, habitual chatter every once in a while he says something vaguely interesting, okay?) with a distance between them but he has to close that gap every time Makoto creates it and he keeps on touching him and people are looking at him and Makoto does not like this kind of look.

"Get your hands off me," he says for what may be the fiftieth time this afternoon.

Takao hugs him. "Aww, Mako-chan is such a tsundere!"

"Why do you have to say that so damn loudly? Get off of me!" Makoto pinches Takao's wrist and stomps on his foot, but his grip doesn't loosen at all.

"But I like you. I want to hug you."

"Don't say such embarrassing things where people can hear them," Makoto says. He knows his ears and cheeks are burning red right now.

Takao mercifully lets go at that moment. Makoto hastily tries to move out of the way, but Takao has already locked their fingers together. He's wearing gloves, so Makoto can't scratch at his bare skin. Instead, he grips as hard as he can. Takao doesn't seem to notice.

"I love you," he says.

"Oh, thank you," Makoto says and puts on his most disarming smile. Takao's fingers tighten in their grip. "Like I'd say that."

Takao smiles and kisses him on the cheek. Makoto wants to die.

* * *

175\. Precise Touch (Akashi Seijuurou/Midorima Shintarou)

Shintarou's gotten a lot better at this, moves with much less hesitation. It isn't to say that he doesn't think carefully each time he slides a tile over, but he doesn't overdo it; he's not trying too hard to prove himself to Akashi. His conservative defense is well-thought-out and makes accommodations for many possible routes that Akashi could take. He counters with precision, slim bandaged fingers moving the tiles quickly. They've lost so much time already, haven't they?

Akashi wins, as always. Shintarou doesn't look surprised or upset; he only smiles. They could play again, but that can wait until later. There are other places Akashi would rather that precise, firm touch be.

* * *

176\. Graduation (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

Kyoto is lovely in the early spring; the mist and the early-morning drizzle almost seem to dazzle under the streetlights, although Mibuchi wishes she'd remembered to bring an umbrella. It's a shame she has to leave, and she berates herself for being so damn sentimental—it's not like she's going to die or something, or like this one piece of paper is going to change her identity. But still, she's always been sentimental, has always remained attached to things for a bit too long. College and then a career of some sort lie ahead; it's all so frightening and coming on too quickly and she just wants to be six again when twenty was something out of reach instead of something too close.

The click of plastic on metal sounds, contrasting with the cars rushing through puddles. Akashi holds out his golf umbrella. It almost bumps against her head, but Akashi somehow manages to avoid it.

She doesn't know what to say to him about all of this. She doesn't know what's expected—should they break up? Stay together? Take a break? He hands her the umbrella at the next intersection and his arm snakes around her waist.

"My family's main house is in Tokyo," he says. "I can make arrangements to stay there at my leisure."

His tone is still a bit tentative—he, the ever-confident, all-seeing, all-knowing, Akashi Seijuurou, is unsure. He might just be as unsure as she is.

"There are…a lot of things to do in Tokyo," she ventures with a sly smile. "Leisure activities."

He chuckles.

Mibuchi's glad the umbrella is large enough to hide their faces when Akashi kisses her quite indecently.

* * *

177\. Internet (Kasamatsu Yukio/Hayakawa Mitsuhiro)

Kasamatsu swears if Hayakawa pulls him over to the computer to watch a cat video one more time he will actually lose it. And sure enough, two seconds after he decides this, Hayakawa pulls on his arm and drags him over to the screen where a cat is meowing and wiggling it ears.

"Isn't it cute, senpai? Isn't it? Isn't it?" And Kasamatsu pushes him away because he's getting too goddamn close again and when will he ever learn?

Hayakawa doesn't care. "But you think it's cute, senpai, don't you?"

"No." Kasamatsu folds his arms over his chest.

Hayakawa's face falls and he sinks down to the ground and he's so fucking melodramatic—but that's not the right word. He's too damn enthusiastic about every little thing, that's what.

"Get up, dumbass," Kasamatsu says, and Hayakawa complies, frown eradicated from his face already. And it's not like his smile is cute or anything, no way—but Kasamatsu's lips are moving upward out of what is most definitely their own accord. And they meet Hayakawa's just as he's about to start talking again—it's only to make him shut up, okay?

* * *

178\. Cats (Midorima Shintarou/Kise Ryouta)

The thing blinks at him, squeezing its eyes together in a sort of mocking gesture. Midorima steps backward slowly and carefully. It yawns, baring its rows of sharp fangs and if Midorima didn't know any better he'd say the cat was grinning evilly at him. It's taking all of Midorima's willpower to not run down the street right now. His hands are shaking and his teeth are clenched. He tries to take a deep breath, but only shudders. The cat stands up and arches its back. Midorima almost falls to the ground in surprise. Then the cat all of a sudden spins on its heels and runs off under a car.

"Midorimacchi!" The source of the cat's distress becomes apparent. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he says, this time succeeding in taking a deep breath.

"I saved you from the big, mean kitty," Kise says, draping an arm around Midorima's shoulders.

Midorima blushes. "It's not funny."

"Of course it's not," Kise says. "You should thank me for saving you."

"No way," Midorima says. "I was just about to scare it off on my own."

"Aww, just admit that you needed a handsome prince to rescue you."

"Handsome prince, my ass," Midorima says.

Kise puffs out his cheeks.

"Thanks, I guess," Midorima mutters under his breath.

Kise grins.

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

179\. Terrifying (Aomine Daiki/fem!Imayoshi Shouichi)

Midway through their match, he feels a horrible wrench in his gut. She's not playing to win. She'd challenged him to a one-on-one as his captain, and if he lost he'd have to come to practice every day. The way she'd said that with a grin made him think she'd thought she was better than him, despite seeing him zone already, despite knowing of his reputation.

She knows she's not a better player than he is, but she's been analyzing his movements this whole time and she's been setting it up so that he wins, setting it up so that he can dart in and steal the ball and score from wherever he is, that he can block her shots, that he can shoot over her. She's been patiently toying with him.

How dare she? The only one who can make him win is him. He steals the ball before she can even start to dribble and races across the court . He jumps, going for the dunk, and he slams the ball through the hoop and hangs on the rim for a few seconds.

She's still on the other side of the court, arms crossed over her chest, still smiling. "Well, I reckon that just about does it. I'll see you at our first game."

For some reason, he feels like he's fallen into another one of her traps. As she walks away, he's momentarily distracted by what a nice ass she has, evident even in her current practice attire. Damn. He might have to go to practice anyway, once a week or so. It's only because he finds her both confusing as hell and attractive—it's got nothing to do with basketball itself. That's still boring.

* * *

180\. First Flower (Kagami Taiga/Himuro Tatsuya)

Taiga handles the bulk of the domestic duties, although there really aren't that many. They're both pretty neat, so there's never that much to clean, and they both do their own laundry out of habit, anyway, because they both do it differently. But when the grime and dust accumulate, it's Taiga who scrubs it away and he does almost all of the cooking. They don't have a yard, so they can't garden properly, but Tatsuya buys pots and seeds and soil and doesn't let Taiga touch them because this is going to be his domain. The four-o-clocks die almost immediately and Tatsuya plants tomatoes in the same pot, scowling and hoping the dead stems will fertilize the soil.

The vines grow and he ties them to stakes and hopes they don't break and watches over them with a worry that sometimes exasperates Taiga—but then he comes home one day to find Taiga staring at one of the window boxes. He looks up when Tatsuya enters, and for a horrible second all kinds of things flash through Tatsuya's mind. Then he sees the smile on Taiga's face.

"Tatsuya," he whispers, almost reverently. "One of the buds bloomed."

For the rest of the summer, the house is filled with blossoms, tomatoes and marigolds and beans and pansies and the weeds that somehow germinate alongside them that Tatsuya doesn't have the heart to uproot.

* * *

181\. A Wait (Takao Kazunari/Furihata Kouki)

Takao is a talker, but also a listener—a very good one, as Furihata finds out quickly. He doesn't roll his eyes when Furihata stutters or zone out when he goes off on a tangent. He asks questions, and even when Furihata's afraid he's boring Takao with descriptions and explanations of the world in his new favorite fantasy novel, Takao assures him that he's not.

"I'm not really into fantasy," he confesses, "but the way you describe it makes me want to know more. And it's so cute the way your face gets when you're happy. It makes me happy, too."

Furihata blushes and his gaze is stuck to the floor. How can he say such things so earnestly and unabashedly?

Takao squeezes his shoulder, but doesn't say anything else. He's willing to wait for Furihata's next words.

* * *

182\. Mad and Afraid and Alone (Nebuya Eikichi/Hanamiya Makoto)

There's a reason Eikichi takes the train all the way to Tokyo, why his large hands are clasped in his lap on the train seat that's way too small, why he endures the seat in front of him digging into his knees. He doesn't like to think of himself as a soft-hearted romantic; he scoffs at the crap that's written on store-bought cards and doesn't call just to say I love you. But Makoto is mad and afraid and alone, betrays his emotions in his voice when he calls Eikichi to berate him and when he replies angrily to Eikichi's texts—Eikichi's not great at reading people, although it's mostly because he doesn't pay attention, but he knows there's something different when he says things like this.

Makoto doesn't cry in Eikichi's arms; Eikichi doesn't expect him to and doesn't really want him to. They trade insults and he eats food from Makoto's fridge while Makoto yells and he falls asleep with Makoto's fingers in a death grip on his left arm, leaving deep trenches in his bicep under where Makoto's nails are.

* * *

183\. Too Close for Comfort (fem!Izuki Shun/Mayuzumi Chihiro)

When he'd said they should hang out, he didn't mean going to Maji in a group along with all of her teammates. They're crammed into the booth and he's at the end, smushed between Izuki and a wall. On her other side is Hyuuga, with whom she's engaged in some kind of conversation with. They're talking about people Mayuzumi doesn't know—presumably classmates. The carefree smile on her face makes his stomach churn uncomfortably, so he quickly sips some more of his extra-large diet cola. He's going to run out soon and then he won't have anything to do. There's no space to open a book.

"Um, excuse me?" The kid across from him says.

Mayuzumi doesn't remember this kid's name—if he remembers correctly, he's Seirin's other point guard, although he's not entirely sure. "Yeah?"

"Izuki-senpai says you like to read light novels. Have you, um, read  _Precious Daffodil_?"

"She talks about me?" She really seems all buddy-buddy with Hyuuga right now, and he has to will himself to look away.

"All the time," says the kid directly across from Izuki. "It's always Mayuzumi-san this, Mayuzumi-san that, I wonder what Mayuzumi-san would think. I liked it better when she made terrible jokes all the time."

"Really?" While he doesn't think these kids would lie to him, it seems odd, because now that he's here she's totally ignoring him—and if she likes him so much, how come she talks to these freshmen all the time? She laughs at something Hyuuga says that he can't catch; it's a nice sound and her expression is beautiful.

She catches his eye and a faint flush appears on her cheeks. He raises an eyebrow. Hyuuga glares at him. He'll just have to take what he can get.

* * *

184\. Gentle (Moriyama Yoshitaka/Kasamatsu Yukio)

Kasamatsu can be surprisingly gentle at times, pressing tender kisses to the corner of Moriyama's mouth and speaking things that almost count as kind or sweet in gruff undertones. Moriyama reaches out and ruffles his hair and Kasamatsu squirms away but he's back in a minute, rosy cheeks and adorable frown and all. Moriyama leans in for another kiss, half-expecting a punch in the head but getting what he wants, for once.

* * *

185\. Falling (Hanamiya Makoto/Seto Kentarou) Note: it's borderline whether this is romantic or not

Seto knows from the get-go how to fall. He falls at the perfect angle, gracefully, beautifully, crunching feet under his elbow and always making it look like an accident, falling as he shoots to get the two points and then the free throw on the foul. He's got the innate ability to visualize anything as it's told to him, staring into that sleep mask of his but still listening to Hanamiya—and then he throws off the mask and throws down the players guarding him, catching a pass and maintaining a look of surprise on his face.

Still, it's all in the fall. Hanamiya watches old game video, tries to figure out what exactly the team is missing (at least that's what he tells himself) and just watches it over and over again, in slow motion, Seto falling, placing himself perfectly. He springs back upward surprisingly well for someone his size, but only after the refs have made their call. It's perfect. Hanamiya presses rewind again.

* * *

186\. Too Much History (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

It doesn't bother him that Aomine has friends. It doesn't even really bother him that Aomine has more friends than he does; Midorima likes spending time alone and he knows Aomine is a bit more outgoing. But still, he spends more time with Kuroko than is strictly necessary. They're always going to get shakes together or practicing on the courts together or just hanging out after school, and sometimes Midorima's walking down the street and he sees them and they look so happy together, bodies turned inward and eyes locked, that he turns around and heads in the opposite direction before it becomes too difficult to breathe.

He calls Aomine the next time practice is canceled, but he's pretty sure Aomine will already be with Kuroko, regrets it as soon as he hears the dial tone and is about to hang up when Aomine picks up.

"Hey, what's up?" He sounds breathless. He never goes too hard in practice when he goes, so he must have been playing with Kuroko.

"I…nothing, really. I don't have practice today."

"Really? Great. Come and play with Tetsu and me."

Midorima sighs. "Are you sure that's okay with him?" He's no good with people, but he can't help but be well aware of the fact that Kuroko doesn't like him.

"Yeah, why wouldn't he be? Come on, it'll be fun."

(-)

It isn't. It's not that Midorima doesn't try; he does. He goes hard against Aomine and Kuroko (it's honestly an unfair matchup, but the only way to get better is to face the toughest opponents) but really, in the scheme of things he doesn't matter. He could be anyone, really, any strong opposition, but Aomine and Kuroko are more focused on their own techniques and working with each other. Midorima's stomach is twisting into knots.

They go to a cheap diner afterward, and sitting next to Aomine is a small victory for Midorima. They're not touching, though, and Aomine and Kuroko are engaged in conversation while Midorima stares into space and sips his glass of water. He doesn't even notice when Kuroko gets up to go to the bathroom, though he jolts when Aomine wraps an arm around his shoulders.

"Hey, what's up? You've been kind of out of it."

Midorima wants to glare at him—now he notices? But he knows he's probably been overly sulky and he can't blame Aomine and Kuroko for wanting to exclude him right now because he's not exactly putting in the effort. "I kind of…feel like I'm third-wheeling it around you two."

Aomine blinks.

Midorima cringes. To actually vocalize his pathetic feelings—well, they're out now so he might as well say everything. "I mean, you two have such a long history, and much more in common than I do with you, and I…" he trails off.

Aomine hugs him tighter, wraps his arms around him, pulls Midorima closer so that they're almost on top of each other, and buries his face in Midorima's neck. He's not the kind of guy to apologize for stuff that's not his fault or to even vocalize his feelings very often—neither of them is—but this is somehow a relief. Aomine feels, if not the same emotions, similar ones. Even though they've known each other longer than Aomine and Kuroko they haven't really known each other, haven't been lovers or even friends for very long.

Aomine looks up at him. "You're smiling. Good. Smile."

He's blushing; he still really doesn't know how to say it. To be honest, Midorima wouldn't know how to respond to something like that, either.

When Kuroko returns, they are separate once more, but Aomine's hand is on Midorima's thigh.

* * *

187\. Yaksha (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

The first time he saw her was in a match, his second year of middle school. The game plan was to score as much as possible and keep the ball away from Mibuchi. This second task was impossible; she always found the ball when the sempais made a tiny misstep, stole it and shot it from wherever she was, jumped away from the triple-team and did a fadeaway, ball almost dancing off of her fingers. None of the Miracles could shoot the ball quite so beautifully—with a more deadly accuracy or from a tougher angle, perhaps, but not in that way.

He had heard of her second and third jumps, of course, and had seen them on video, but nothing can prepare him for the void that is her last jump as he, too, is rooted to the spot. She holds the entire court in breathless awe as she seemingly floats in midair, stays for a second and grins in satisfaction, and then lazily releases the ball in a perfect arc. He should have known it would be this much more amazing in person, and he curses himself for acting like a fool and just watching.

She knows he fell for it, too, flashes him a quick grin before going on defense, and his heart swoops low in his chest as he desperately tries to pretend that his heart doesn't exist, chants in his head that emotions have no place on the floor. Funny how that doesn't work quite as well whenever she's around.

* * *

188\. Other Beat (fem!Akashi Seijuurou/Mayuzumi Chihiro)

She fits quite comfortably in his arms, even when he's reading. He can hold the book out in front of him, over her shoulder, while she looks down at the phone in her lap, on which she's playing some kind of shogi app. He turns the page. The ending of this chapter is quite abrupt, and it bothers him slightly. He frowns. She shuts off her phone's display and puts it on the coffee table, leaning back into his arms briefly. He kisses the top of her head.

"Chihiro," she says, and he parts his arms for her. Whenever she says his name like that, he can tell what she wants, and he's not sure if she likes it or dislikes it. She gets up, smoothing her skirt out, and walks over to the radio. She turns it on, slowly raising the volume until it's where she likes it, some generic rock song playing (he didn't think she liked those, but then again he can't think of any type of music that might please her).

"Chihiro," she says again, holding out her hand.

He puts down the book and gets up, walking over to her and bowing. "My lady."

She can't deny the smirk that plays on her lips as she grabs his hand and places it on her waist and locks his other hand in hers and begins to dance—not to the beat of the song, to some other rhythm. Their bodies move closer, and soon enough he can feel her heartbeat, her chest against his torso and her thumb under his. He can smell the faint aroma of her expensive perfume as she leans her head on his shoulder and exposes her long neck. He wonders how much lower he can move his hand before she gets mad.

* * *

189\. Sin (Murasakibara Atsuhi/Liu Wei)

They call it sin, chanting against it in from the pulpit while the students try their best to ignore it and catch up on sleep, but the acoustics of the church arouse all but those in the deepest of slumbers. Murasakibara is one of those; Liu can see him a few rows away, sprawled out and blocking out the sound of the words that might haunt him—but even so, if what they're doing is sinning, it's too late to go back and it's too good to sincerely renounce at this point, isn't it? So what if he burns in hell for eternity? He'll still have the time he spent in Murasakibara's arms, the nights spent with two sets of limbs tangled up in a bed that neither of them can properly fit on alone. He'll still have the memory of the taste of salt from Murasakibara's lips, the memory of the feel of rock-hard muscle against his skin, and long soft hair between his fingers.

Murasakibara rubs his eyes and glances down at something. A few seconds later, Liu's phone vibrates and he carefully takes it out and hides it between the pages of his bible.

 _my room after this ok_. Liu texts back an affirmative, and even from this distance he can see the corners of Murasakibara's mouth turn up. It can't be a sin if it causes this much happiness, can it?

* * *

190\. Demanding (fem!Aomine Daiki/Imayoshi Shouichi)

She's been teasing him, has him blindfolded and tied up and horny, and he can hear her panting and almost feel the wolfish grin on her face in the air. He's still smirking, too—it's nice to be controlled. It's nice to hear her call his name, voice raspy, to obey her every command (because truthfully, even with their little masquerade stripped away, he'd follow her to the ends of the earth). She's ordinarily quite bossy, almost bratty, but there's nothing childish about the way she's touching him now—and the way she's not touching. She wants to make him strain against his bonds and hear certain words fall from his lips, revels in it.

It's the way she's most comfortable—being the center of attention, doing what she wants, having someone respond to her every whim, telling people what not to do.

She settles herself on top of him, moving very slowly, taking him all the way inside, and he very much wants to thrust his hips. He has self-control, though, and that's what makes this fun. She wants him to break the rules almost as much as she wants him to obey her every command. It's a win-win situation, really.

"Move," she says.

He complies, of course.

* * *

191\. Idle Hands (Aomine Daiki/Kagami Taiga)

Kagami had a teacher in middle school who said that idle hands were the devil's workshop, and at the time he'd had no idea what it meant. Years later, he finally understands—Aomine's hands are almost always idle and when this occurs, they usually end up touching Kagami. Kagami, on the other hand, actually does shit with his spare time other than lie around and flip through magazines or television channels. He cooks; he cleans; he attempts to do homework—and sooner or later calloused hands will start rubbing against his hips or his ass or his face or strong arms will wrap around his waist and damn this idleness. Aomine knows how to push all of his buttons and make Kagami way too horny and forget what he's doing and the house is messy and there's nothing to eat except for raw ingredients and his grades are even worse and he's not going to pass any of his classes and it's all Aomine's fault, and Kagami tells him this and sticks out his lower lip in a pout.

Aomine smirks against Kagami's neck and trails a hand down Kagami's chest. Kagami whines.

"Well, they're not exactly idle now, are they?"

Goddamn it.

* * *

192\. What Wasn't (Araki Masako/Aida Kagetora)

He's got a smile that's brighter than the taillights of a bike in the deepest, clearest night, welcoming and undiscriminating. He doesn't care that she's rough and angry and unfeminine the way her teammates do; outside the court and even on it they're not sure how to react to her. Her subordinates worship the ground she walks on but it's not friendship, nothing close to that. She wonders if she'd call what they have friendship and then decides that's not quite it. It's an understanding of sorts, of each other's basketball style—she knows wildness, has lived wildness, has been beaten within an inch of her life before, knows desperation, but on the court she's ruthlessly efficient and conservative. Defense first, and it doesn't stop when you have possession. She will not hand over the ball to the other team once it's in her hand; she's dependable.

He is wild on the court, a menace unleashed, who can drive and shoot and steal and pass and get creative, make up things on the fly. It's that survival instinct, that need, she recognizes it. Of course, he's not like that off the court at all, smiling and ruffling her hair and getting on her nerves but still going harder than her, laughing as he does crunches (shouldn't that hurt?) and whistling as he runs. It's captivating.

This is the way they'd always told her she'd feel, even though she laughed in their faces and said that no person could make her feel like that, maybe basketball, but more and more she lies in bed and thinks of his face and his voice and when she dreams of hardwood and asphalt and jumping, it's his legs that pound these grounds and she does everything in her power to lock these feelings away because they aren't appropriate and he treats her more like a little sister. Does he even see her as a woman?

Does it matter? It does, because she's not content to experience that crazy spirit secondhand, from watching on the sidelines.


	13. Chapter 13

193\. Drowned Thoughts (Miyaji Kiyoshi/Takao Kazunari)

I DON'T LIKE THAT BRAT I DON'T LIKE THAT BRAT I DON'T I REALLY DON'T LIKE REALLY REALLY I DON'T the louder voice in his head screams, but the force of Takao's (very bratty, very soft, very delicious) lips are drowning it out. The pressure of Takao's tongue on Miyaji's teeth further forces those thoughts to just quiet down already because like it or not, brat or not, Takao's a really good kisser. His hands are moving lower on Miyaji's back because he's a presumptuous brat who is way too forward and this is not okay except it kind of is, the sigh escaping from Takao's throat and the way he bites on Miyaji's lip and maybe it's okay if his hands go there but NO NO IT DEFINITELY ISN'T but somehow Miyaji can't move them, can't tell him to stop, because the side of him that wants this, really really wants this, is winning.

* * *

194\. Dewdrop and Dusklight (Izuki Shun/Kuroko Tetsuya)

The pink and purple are giving way to a deep blue streaked with grey, and Izuki squeezes Kuroko's hand tighter. He bends down to pluck a blade of grass and hands it to Kuroko.

"Dew you love me?" he says, grinning.

"Izuki-kun, that's rain. Dew comes out in the morning."

Izuki rolls his eyes. "You're really unromantic, Kuroko."

"Your jokes are just terrible. You're the unromantic one."

Nevertheless, he moves closer and rests his head on Izuki's shoulder. They stop and listen to the wind and the crickets chirping. It's a nice evening after a stormy day, not exactly a perfect romantic setting, but it will do. After all, the beauty of the evening doesn't matter if the only thing he's looking at is Kuroko, who looks gorgeous in every light.

"Dusk thou want a kiss?"

"No," says Kuroko. (He's blushing, though.)

* * *

195\. Coherence (Hara Kazuya/Hanamiya Makoto)

When Makoto steps in Kazuya's recently-spit-out gum, he freaks the fuck out in a way that Kazuya has never seen him do before. He's freaked out over dumb mistakes he made on school assignments or lost matches, but never this much. Only he has the ability to string so many swearwords together and still form a coherent sentence, though; Kazuya will have to give him that. Especially when he's freaking out about the condition of his new sneakers—it's dumb; he can afford another pair, after all.

"I was just starting to break them in, motherfucker," Makoto says, breathing hard and shoving Kazuya against the wall.

Kazuya's stronger, knows he can break free, but wants to see how twisted he can get Makoto. He pops another piece of gum into his mouth and smirks.

Makoto kisses him. Kazuya kisses back, which he realizes is probably a mistake.

Makoto bites his tongue hard and Kazuya nearly chokes on his gum. Once he coughs it up he glares at Makoto, who is now smirking and standing with his arms crossed. "Are you all right, Kazuya?"

"Goddamn bastard," he says. Chewing's going to hurt for a while, but it's not like Makoto hasn't done this before.

* * *

196\. Nails (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

The first thing Aomine notices—well, really notices—about Midorima is his nails. They're short, but not in the way his are, worn down and broken by his constant time on the court. He files them meticulously, which Aomine has known and scorned for several years now—but they're really perfect. He could be a hand model with nails like that, cuticles pushed back perfectly (why the fuck does he even know that word? He clearly spends way too much time flipping through Satsuki's magazines hoping to see a hot girl in the pages) and the edges are perfectly round and smooth and they're not broken off and they're very clean. He doesn't realize he's staring until Midorima asks him if everything is all right, in that dumb grumpy voice of his, and Aomine blushes and shrugs it off.

The attraction eats at him, and he tries to shut it away, but every time he sees Midorima something else about him piques Aomine's interest—his eyelashes, the way he walks, the way he explains something, how he stares at his hands, his voice itself, the rare small smiles. It's disconcerting, and it all comes back to those damn gorgeous nails. He even sees Midorima filing his nails at one point and it feels weird. He must be like one of those weird fetishists or something with some sort of nail thing, right?

Or maybe he just likes Midorima, which is what Kise hints at for weeks until he sets them up on a date that neither of them can get out of and the worst thing about it ends up being that Kise is going to keep rubbing it in their faces that he got them together. Holding Midorima's soft hand in his, examining in front of his face, that's what makes it worth it. Midorima gives him a quizzical expression but Aomine doesn't care because he gets to look at every millimeter of those nails and feel them against his skin and kiss each one and see Midorima blush and tell him to stop being so strange. But his nails really are perfect.

* * *

197\. Lavish (Kagami Taiga/Takao Kazunari)

The thing about Takao is that nothing can escape his gaze, no matter how much Kagami tries to hide it. Takao knew the minute Kagami fell in love with him, knows the minute Kagami figures something out—maybe it's Kagami's own fault for being so open in his expressions, but no one reads him like Takao does. Takao likes to lavish attention on every inch of Kagami's body, likes to suck on his toes and run his hands up Kagami's legs and examine the inside of his wrists and trace over the faded scar on Kagami's hip and he knows more about Kagami's body than Kagami himself does. Even the things Kagami's self-conscious about, his awkward toes and the moles on his arm and the spot he always misses shaving—Takao gives those spots just as much love as the others, maybe more because of course he knows Kagami's not comfortable with them. Hell, just being around Takao makes Kagami oddly comfortable in his own skin (except when Takao doesn't want him to be).

Kagami's not sure how he can repay Takao, because he tries to examine all of him and then just caught somewhere and ends up sucking on his fingers and then giving him a blow job but Takao doesn't seem to mind. He curls up in Kagami's arms afterward, and the soft look of pure bliss on his face is more than Kagami could have hoped for, and it just gets better every time.

* * *

198\. All Lovey Dovey (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

Eikichi's always the first one up; he goes for a run before they start the real training just to get his blood pumping and so he can eat more at breakfast (Reo always makes a snide remark about how he doesn't need to eat more, and Eikichi always ignores her and piles more food onto his plate). It's nice, but he wants to drink a protein shake and because Reo brought another suitcase and had a bit of room, he told her to take all of the vanilla ones with her and he's really in the mood for one of them. She'll get mad at him for waking her up, but she's always mad at him so it's really not a big deal.

Then he walks in and finds her cuddling with the captain. It's one of the most jarring sights Eikichi has ever seen. He knows they're going out, has seen Reo rest her arm on Akashi's shoulder and has seen Akashi reach for her hand, stuff like that—but still, he hasn't seen them in bed, half-naked, saying dumb corny shit to each other.

"Um," he says.

Reo blushes and starts to stutter; Akashi looks coolly at him.

"Reo, you still have my vanilla protein shakes, right?"

"You can do without a vanilla protein shake," says Akashi.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Eikichi says and walks out. Strawberry sounds pretty tasty right about now.

* * *

199\. Switcharound (Nebuya Eikichi/Akashi Seijuurou)

Eikichi's a pretty weird guy; Kotarou's known that for a while. He doesn't usually talk to himself, though, and if he does, he doesn't yell and have a really weird tone of voice. It's possible he's possessed, but…Kotarou doesn't believe in that shit. So he opens the door to the locker room. No demons. Eikichi's wearing a tie, which is a bit unusual, but his pose is weird. He usually slouches when he's not playing ball, especially when he's talking to Akashi, which he is (which makes the whole damn situation even weirder).

Akashi's uniform is ruffled and he's standing on the bench, hands on his hips. They both turn to glare at Kotarou.

"What? Am I getting in the middle of some lovers' quarrel?"

"Kotarou," says Eikichi. He still sounds weird. "We seem to have switched bodies."

"Ha ha," says Kotarou.

Akashi picks his nose.

"Motherfucker," says Kotarou. "Actually?" Akashi wouldn't do that, even for a joke. He's twisted, but not that twisted, right?

"Yes," says Eikichi (who is really Akashi).

"Have you guys had sex like that yet?"

Their glares are so worth it.

(-)

The amusement has worn off by the middle of morning practice when neither of them can get anything done because they're not used to these bodies and each is more concerned with what the other is doing to his body.

"You can't eat that much, Eikichi. You've already surpassed my caloric intake and that's not on my practice schedule!"

"You're not jumping high enough. You're the one who designed my practice schedule in the first place!"

"I am unused to having muscles that work this way."

"Well, I'm unused to having a stomach this small."

"This is lame," says Kotarou.

Reo is still hiding his eyes.

They've resolved it somewhat by the time afternoon practice rolls around, still yapping at each other about stuff that happened in the classroom. Eikichi's sudden perfection at math, by far his worst subject, was a sight to behold, but now Eikichi-in-Akashi's body is mad because they'll expect him to be better than he is. Akashi's problem is exactly the reverse; all Kotarou can do is be thankful that there wasn't a student council meeting today or they'd be at each other's throats tenfold.

Coach ends practice early because he really can't deal with their shit, not that Kotarou blames him. He can't either. They were all supposed to go to dinner together, too.

"I wonder if they fuck they'll switch back," he says.

Reo looks at him with desperation in his eyes. "I'll help you lock them in the locker room."

* * *

200\. Tired Lately (Akashi Seijuurou/Midorima Shintarou)

It's been a trying week, but it's almost over. That's what Midorima keeps telling himself, at least. Still, that does nothing to push away the demons of sleep that grab at his consciousness all day Thursday, and when he goes home it's even worse. He almost nods off during dinner, would rather sleep than eat at this point, even though he's trying to listen to Akashi.

Akashi stops in the middle of the sentence. "Shintarou, you really need to sleep."

"I'm sorry," Midorima says, blinking furiously, trying to do everything in his power to keep from slumping over. He's too busy concentrating on that to notice Akashi approach him and place a hand on his arm.

"You should be in bed," says Akashi as he helps Midorima up, supporting his waist. Midorima feels foolish; there's no way Akashi can support his full weight and he really will be fine in a few minutes except he's not really sure how much of this he's actually said out loud.

"All of it," says Akashi.

He helps Midorima out of his clothes and Midorima feels like such a kid, so helpless like this, but the prospect of sleep is too enticing, so he lets his hands drop and lets Akashi handle everything. He's better at it, anyway, in the best of circumstances.

Akashi tucks him in and kisses him on the forehead and Midorima wonders vaguely when he took off his glasses before he falls back onto the pillows.

* * *

201\. Meaning of "We" (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

"Do we have any meaning to you?"

She knows he knows exactly what she means. She means them, their relationship, being a couple. She seems to amuse him some days, to be just a casual thing to pass the time with on others. She's never the thing that's important, that which takes precedence. It's all for the team when it concerns her; he lumps her in with all the others as an afterthought. More often it's for his grades or for the student council or for his father or for him, and how can he be so selfish? He calls her for a date and then ditches her, apologizes the enxt day with flowers but they're not even her favorite kind; they never are. For a guy who's supposedly oh-so-observant and all-knowing, he doesn't bother to learn a damn thing about her that isn't useful for manipulation.

And he has still said nothing. She has directed her rage at him silently, pursing her lips, staying calm for once (the way he's always told her to, while touching her arm just so) and she can't take it anymore because one more second of this and she will explode so she turns on her heel and walks away and does not let her shoulders shake. One foot in front of the other, and she remembers to sway her hips so he looks closer—so he knows what he's missing.

But he won't care. A guy like him might not be able to feel any attraction—okay, now she's being silly and overreacting; she has to draw the line. She takes a shaky breath.

She hears no light, precise footsteps behind her, no quiet voice from below. He has not followed. (She didn't want him to. She doesn't want him. If she repeats it enough times, perhaps it will become true.)

She sobs into her pillow all night, trying to muffle the noises from her nosy parents. She spends extra time in the bathroom in the morning cleaning her face ad wiping away the puffiness. So she'll be late for practice; it's not the end of the world.

Coach assigns her extra laps. He does not even move a fraction of a centimeter when she comes into the gym, although he notices her presence, of course. It's business as usual with him; he tells her what to work on and passes her the ball. Their on-court chemistry hasn't been affected. Of course; he didn't care at all. The discomfort she feels is probably balanced out by the relief he feels at being rid of her.

* * *

202\. In the Rain (Takao Kazunari x Hanamiya Makoto)

The rain is disgusting. It damages everything it touches; newly-cleaned clothes must be sent to the dry-cleaner and leather is ruined. Makoto somehow always ends up soaked, umbrella or no, from passing cars splashing him and water that clings to his hand and makes them clammy and shivery and it's not pleasant at all.

The brat, of course, loves the rain. He's insistent on opening the windows to let in some of the disgusting humidity and staring dreamily into the fog until Makoto forces his attention away. Since when is the damn weather more important than him? (Takao smirks at him when Makoto tugs on his hand or bites him on the ear.)

At least Takao is content to watch it from inside and doesn't make Makoto go out in it. And somehow foggy morning sex is better than normal morning sex.

* * *

203\. My Hands They Shake (fem!Izuki Shun/Kuroko Tetsuya)

He turns her head every which way; it takes her a while to be able to see him when sight has never been a problem. The only thing that was a problem was making sense of the things she saw—and she thought she'd taken care of that. Things are clear; or rather, they were, until he stepped into the picture and blurred it all again. She can't make him make sense, even as his stare bores straight into her. It's disconcerting. She can't concentrate. She fumbles a pass because she's too busy thinking about him.

He's just a freshman (but he's a damn good basketball player). She can't get him out of her head, out of her field of vision. She's so busy concentrating on trying to not concentrate on him that she doesn't notice her shaking hands until he walks right up to her and clasps them in his own.

"Izuki-senpai, is everything alright?"

No. Of course it's not. Not when he's around.

* * *

204\. Everything (fem!Izuki Shun/Mayuzumi Chihiro)

There are so many colleges in Japan, and so many in Tokyo, even, but he just has to go to the one close to Seirin. He just happens to enjoy Maji's fries and just happens to have enough disposable income to eat said fries a few times a week. His free time just happens to coincide with the end of her practice, doesn't it?

She sees him out of the corner of her eye, does a double take. There he is in the corner, munching on a fry and reading another light novel. She'd recognize those slate-grey eyes anywhere. He doesn't see her; he's too fixated on the pages in front of him to notice anything else.

The next time, though, he notices her and says hello, and she's not quite sure how to respond. She didn't think he'd remember her.

They meet again in the park on a sunny weekend; she'd brought her sisters to shoot hoops with but they're not very interested or very good and join their other friends in a game of pick-up soccer. Just playing on her own is no fun, so she's about to head home when she turns around to see him almost smiling at her from across the court. He doesn't have to say anything for her to know to pass him the ball.

And then she sees him on the street and can't help but give him a little wave, and at the bus stop when he doesn't see her again because he's reading another book, and they're both at the hardware store and the grocery store at the same time, and she begins to think that even though last season is over this story may not be.

* * *

205\. Blue World (Izuki Shun/Kuroko Tetsuya)

It's like he sees Kuroko everywhere—well, not exactly that. It's not as if he's always turning around to see him a few meters away or even mistaking someone or something else for Kuroko. Everything reminds Izuki of him, and it's like his world has become topsy-turvy. His sister tells him a particularly clever pun and he wonders how Kuroko would react to it, and he sees a recipe for the ultimate vanilla shake online and thinks Kuroko would like that and he finds himself seeing more and more of a particular shade of blue.

"You blue me away," he whispers.

Kuroko doesn't glare at him, just kisses him (Izuki knows it's partly to shut him up).

"I see you everywhere, so your presence is a present," Izuki says, and this time Kuroko steps away.

"Izuki-kun," says Kuroko.

"Okay, I'll stop," says Izuki.

Kuroko kisses him again. Izuki doesn't see why he can't just take Kuroko everywhere with him. That would solve a lot of things.

* * *

206\. Maddeningly Beautiful (Midorima Shintarou/fem!Akashi Seijuurou)

His world, so delicately and carefully built up, shaking at the foundations, starts to crumble. Just the thought of being on the same court as her again, of playing against her this time, has been swaying him, and here she is, toppling his philosophy with hers, beating him with skill and power and dominance, sending him crashing to the floor again and again.

It's like last year all over again, the few moments of perfection suddenly twisted and cracked and leaving him with broken glass in his skin and his heart. She turns away from him again, head held high. He cannot deny that there is something achingly beautiful about her when she brings someone else's world down (or maybe the world he built up was false, an ice palace that looks beautiful raining down in fragments around her). But he will not cede this to her; he will not abandon ship this time.

* * *

207\. Lost in the Storm (fem!Mibuchi Reo/Akashi Seijuurou)

His words can move mountains, of the literal and figurative kind—if he applies the right amount of force on the right person, he can bend them to his will in time. He does not say too much or too little, uses his words carefully (but not too much so) and precisely. Yet there are things he cannot say, things that knot his tongue, things that others learned to say but he never did. It's infuriating (but his is a quiet fury) sometimes.

"I love you," Reo says, lips quivering, hair falling over her face. She is gorgeous in the dim light from the rainy night outside (in every light) and he has been sensing these words in her throat for a long time, and she finally has the courage to utter them. Her mouth steadies itself; her eyes are clear and bright.

He does not move. She sighs and flops back down under the covers.

His voice becomes operational. "I love you, too," he says, just as the thunder rolls, and the vibrations of his voice are not loud enough to pierce it.

* * *

208\. Look What You've Done (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

He's reduced to speechlessness again, sitting in the bleachers while his teammates chatter and argue about the game but that's just white noise now. The only thing that's defined is Aomine, faster than ever, stealing and dunking and passing and shooting so carelessly and he's completely in his element and Midorima can barely breathe. He doesn't play Aomine's type of game; they never complemented each other especially well back in middle school, won despite their differences. But this is like, to use a cliché, a whole new ballgame. This is different. He leans forward in his seat, trying to see better, cursing his shitty vision. It's unreal, all of this.

After the game, Aomine meets him and engulfs him in an exhausted embrace. Midorima closes his eyes and holds on tight because he can't be trusted to not fall down, public location and all. He just doesn't care anymore and this, this is what Aomine has done to him. Just the intensity of watching him do what he loves fills Midorima with a ridiculous sense of pride and vicarious joy and pure attraction, because Aomine is never as beautiful—even beneath the sheets and sweating and inside Midorima—as when he's playing basketball with no limits, when he is free. And his arms are warm and clutch Midorima so tightly and he loves him. And knowing he is loved frees Midorima, too.

* * *

209\. Secrets (Akashi Seijuurou/Mibuchi Reo)

It's hard to control his mouth around Akashi, because he likes Akashi and because Akashi is Akashi and he makes everyone a little nervous. Mibuchi's given up so many secrets at this point, has revealed so much about himself that he's sure Akashi doesn't actually give a damn about but is polite enough to listen to (sometimes he does cut in with a firm nod, and Mibuchi feels burning shame). Still, there are a few things Mibuchi keeps to himself, or tries to at any rate. There's his gigantic crush on Akashi, for one—seriously, he's adorable and accomplished and talented and intelligent and amazing and Mibuchi just can't stop thinking about him—but he's managed to keep that sort of under control. Okay, so he fawns over him sometimes, but he's just like an adoring fan, that's all. Akashi seems to think of it in terms of respect, anyway, which is good. But he'll probably only keep thinking about it that way as long as Mibuchi doesn't talk about his sexuality, which he really doesn't want to. An overbearing, effeminate, presumably-straight guy is one thing; an overbearing, effeminate gay guy is something totally different. Akashi's not scared of much, but Mibuchi can see him turning away in disgust and a touch of fear, that Mibuchi would try something—which of course, no matter how much he likes Akashi, he wouldn't. He can't.

And yet, somehow, it slips out. They're talking about the past, about mistakes they've made. Akashi's mistakes barely qualify, things like parting his hair the wrong way or reaching for the wrong fork at dinner. He encourages Mibuchi to share an embarrassing story of his own, though, so he can't help but think of all the cringe-worthy things he did in middle school, and he wants to get his story out as soon as possible to get it over with. Unfortunately, he has barely any filter between his brain and his mouth and the words he's tried so hard to not utter force their way out.

"And it was in front of the guy I liked…" He slumps his shoulders theatrically but then tenses them up again, having realized what exactly he just said. "Er, person, person I liked." His hands are shaking and he's biting the inside of his lip and his eyes are wide.

Akashi looks interested.

Mibuchi frantically tries not to cry or say anything else that stupid, but the damage is clearly already done. He looks down and cringes.

Akashi touches him lightly on the arm. "Reo?"

"Yes?"

Akashi looks a bit concerned. Mibuchi sucks in his breath. "I'm, ah…more than okay with your sexuality, whichever way it is."

Mibuchi is suddenly very aware that Akashi's hand is still on his arm. He's aware of the impropriety of hugging him in this situation, of the impropriety of hugging Akashi in any situation. "You don't think I'm gross or strange?"

"No," says Akashi. "Not at all. You're far from the only one, you know."

He'll have time later to dissect and re-dissect every one of Akashi's words. But until then, he feels an immense relief and he can't help but put on a ridiculously wide smile.

* * *

210\. Love Letters (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

Somehow, they keep managing to get into the locker room. Reo opens her locker and they spill out onto her feet. There's five letters today, fewer than usual, although at this point Akashi wonders if she hasn't been sent one by the entire population of the school. She sighs and stuffs them into her school bag and starts changing. At this point, they don't comment on it that much because it's all been said. Nevertheless, Akashi feels a bit uneasy. There are things that Reo doesn't tell him, things that she does not want to tell him. One of them is the object of her affections, although she doesn't seem to think that he would send her a letter, anyway. But it's dangerous to make assumptions.

She finishes changing and heads out to practice. Akashi's still sort of staring into space.

Kotarou claps him on the shoulder. "Don't worry; she's taller than most of them."

"Kotarou, your training is tripled."

He huffs. "Don't blame me for your love problems."

"Quadrupled."

* * *

211\. Suspicion (Mayuzumi Chihiro/fem!Izuki Shun)

He knows he has to stop putting it off at some point, or she'll lose interest (if she has any, which he thinks she does, but this could all be part of some delusion of his) or she'll find a better man, so one day he just goes over before he can rationalize not going to himself. He waits outside the gym; they're still in practice. One of the guys on her team comes out to take a drink from the water fountain and bumps into him (lack of presence is really more trouble than it's worth).

"Oh, hey, it's you. You're here to see Izuki, right?" He grins, and it's oddly reminiscent of a cat.

Mayuzumi nods.

"Okay, I'll get her for you," he says.

A few minutes later, Izuki emerges, wiping her brow with her shirt. Even in dirty gym clothes, she's very cute.

"Izuki-san, I'm sorry for interfering with your practice."

"Oh, it's okay; I was taking a break, anyway. What's up?"

"I was wondering if—"

She grabs his arm and pulls him down, and he feels something go by over his head and hears it smash against the wall.

"What the hell, Kuroko?" she shouts.

"Hyuuga-senpai told me to do it," says Kuroko, who appears alongside Hyuuga at the doors. "Although, I quite agree with him."

Mayuzumi gets up and helps Izuki to her feet. "What, exactly, are you suggesting?"

"What are you doing to Izuki?" Hyuuga demands, jabbing his finger at Mayuzumi.

"He's not doing anything to me. We barely had time to start a conversation," Izuki says. "You two need to apologize."

"Not until he apologizes for his bad intentions," says Hyuuga.

"What bad intentions?" says Izuki.

"Izuki-senpai, the mind of a man is a disgusting thing," says Kuroko. "Take it from us."

"Relax," says Mayuzumi. "I mean no harm to Izuki-san. I came here only to ask her on a date, which she is perfectly free to decline."

Hyuuga looks like he's gone into some sort of shock. Kuroko glares at Mayuzumi, who has to suppress a shudder.

"Um, Mayuzumi-san," says Izuki. "Going on a date with you would be going out-standing."

He stops himself from cringing and smirks at Hyuuga and Kuroko.

* * *

212\. Truth or Dare (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

Reo spreads her arms dramatically. "Truth or dare, Kotarou?"

"Dare."

"Um…I dare you to make a half-court shot."

"That's boring, Reo-nee."

"Well, then, you should have picked truth."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever." He picks up a basketball, walks to half-court, and shoots. The ball falls a few feet short.

"Do it until you make it," says Reo.

It takes him two more tries. "Whatever, I'll have a better question," says Kotarou. "Ei-chan, truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to eat five bowls of beef in fifteen seconds."

"And you called mine lame?" says Reo.

"Set the timer," says Eikichi. Where the hell he pulls out these bowls from, Reo doesn't want to know. He pours all five bowls into his mouth, chewing rapidly and wildly, and somehow manages to swallow all of it and burp in 14.5 seconds.

"Akashi, truth or dare?"

"…dare."

"I dare you to kiss Reo."

Akashi glares at him. Reo blushes and looks down.

"Well," says Akashi. "I gave my word. I apologize, Reo."

"Um, it's…it's fine," says Reo, blushing brighter.

Akashi tilts her chin down and meets her lips softly with his own, closing his eyes and waiting five seconds or so before breaking away. Reo looks like she wants to die. "That's adequate, I hope?"

Eikichi nods and flashes the thumbs-up sign.

"Reo," says Akashi. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," she says.

"Is there a person you like at this moment?"

Reo nods.

Kotarou rolls his eyes.

"Sei-chan, truth or dare?"

"Hmm. Truth."

"Is there a person you like?"

He nods.

"This is lame," Kotarou whispers to Eikichi.

"Kotarou, truth or dare?" says Akashi.

"Dare."

"I dare you to go outside and run sixty laps around the building."

"Goddamn it," says Kotarou. "Ei-chan can ask while you guys are waiting, I guess."

"Reo, truth or dare?" Eikichi asks.

She bites her lip. "…truth."

"Is the person you like Akashi?"

Reo takes a deep breath and nods.

"Sei-chan…truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Do you like me?"

"Yes," he says, and takes her hand.

Eikichi suddenly feels very uncomfortable, as if he should be outside doing laps with Kotarou. Well, it's not like they're going to notice him leaving at this point.

* * *

213\. Six Sunflowers (Mayuzumi Chihiro/fem!Izuki Shun)

Izuki stirs the sugar into her coffee. "I have Eagle's Eye, you know," she says rather loudly.

Mayuzumi frowns. This is apropos of nothing. Then, he catches movement out of the corner of his eye…ah. It's her teammates, of course. Another thing he thought only happened in light novels, but really knowing them he should have expected it anyway. On the other hand, though, don't they have something better to do? It's clearly making her nervous and unhappy.

"Don't mind them," he says, placing his hand on top of hers.

She gives him a small smile. "I should be the one saying that about my bother-chums."

Her pun is even weaker than usual and he can tell her heart's not in it. This date had so much promise, too. Well, they can always get up and go somewhere more distracting than a moderately-sized café, and they can take their drinks with them.

"Come, I want to show you something," he says. They get up and leave with their drinks, and he manages to slip his arm around her waist. She leans into him and smiles, so at least she's still into him. He can feel their eyes on his back, boring into him now. She can feel it, too; her smile quickly fades. He scowls. They'll pay for this. They can't cause her this much discomfort and still call themselves her friends.

He stops at a flower shop. He'd read a book on flower meanings once, and can recall quite a few of them. He starts pointing at them, hoping it's something she's interested in, and she does appear to be. The tension fades a bit from her shoulders as she allows herself to get distracted.

"Excuse me," Mayuzumi says to the cashier. "But can I get a bouquet of sunflowers?"

"Of course," says the cashier, and he wraps up half a dozen of the tallest.

Mayuzumi turns to look at Izuki, and she stands on her tiptoes and kisses him. He's a bit taken aback at first, but relaxes into her lips soon enough.

They break as he takes the flowers and hands them to her. "What was that for?"

"I adore you, too."

* * *

214\. Snowflakes (Kobori Kouji/Moriyama Yoshitaka)

Moriyama spins and twirls in the snow, catching snowflakes in his outstretched arms. His hair fans out around his head in the wind and he laughs. It's quite picturesque, and perhaps that's Moriyama's intention. He turns to Kobori, infectious grin still plastered across his face, and Kobori returns the expression. Moriyama's cheeks are flushed from the movement and the cold, and they're close enough to kiss, so Kobori does just that. But it's Moriyama, ever the romantic one, who captures Kobori's lips and pulls Kobori's face toward his as the snowflakes stick to their eyelashes.

"Let's get hot chocolate," says Moriyama. "I know this place nearby."

"Yeah, that sounds good," says Kobori. There's a snowflake on the end of Moriyama's nose and he makes sure to kiss it off.

* * *

215\. Sadomasochism (Murasakibara Atsushi/Himuro Tatsuya)

It amazes him how strong Atsushi is, even after knowing him for this long, how far his magnificent body can stretch. His hands are holding Himuro's wrists above his head, and those amazing arms go on forever—his shoulders are at Himuro's upper thighs. He kisses Himuro's hip, lips soft and wet and the sensation is dizzying. Still, this gentleness will only last so long, and Himuro's ready for the rough part.

"Atsushi," he says.

Atsushi raises his head and nods, positioning himself correctly and gripping Himuro's wrists tighter. He's already loosened Himuro up and put on lube, but that means nearly nothing now, because he's just so big and he can't control himself. He puts in the tip of his cock and then plunges in all the way and Himuro yells. Atsushi's shoulders tense and he thrusts, again and again. Whoever first compared sex to being impaled clearly had Atsushi in mind—not that Himuro can complete that thought; he's seeing stars in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Atsushi gnaws on his shoulder and thrusts again and again, harder, more erratic—Himuro can hardly prepare himself for the next one before it arrives. It just feels so damn good; perhaps the only thing that matches Atsushi's sadism is Himuro's masochism.

* * *

216\. Dance in the Rain (Momoi Satsuki/Takao Kazunari)

The umbrella, on its last legs for several months now, finally breaks in the wind when they're only halfway home. They look at each other and shrug; it's not like their clothes will be ruined if they get a little wet. It'll be uncomfortable and cold, sure, but they can warm each other up.

Takao takes her hand. "Sacchan, I can teach you how to dance in the rain."

"Sure," she says, and she can see him smile through the thick precipitation.

He picks her up and swings her around without warning, and she feels positively weightless in his arms, heart swooping and pounding. He sets her down gently and then spins her under his arm, and then before she can catch her breath he pulls her in close to him. By now, they're both thoroughly soaked. The beat of Takao's heart and the warmth that somehow radiates from his arms are a comfort in the cold and she snuggles closer.

"We should do this more often," she says as they sway back and forth.

"Mm," he says and kisses her on the forehead.

After a few minutes, they separate and walk back home through the pouring rain hand in hand. After all, there are certain things to be done at home.

* * *

217\. To Care (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Midorima Shintarou)

The feelings she has for him are more than blind servility, no matter how much she tries to keep it under wraps. She tries to stay stoic, but the slight tremor in her voice and the faraway look in her eyes whenever she talks about him give it away. It's all right; everyone has his or her own cross to bear—hers is loving him. Takao has often wondered about him, what he's really like, this person who cuts his best friend's feelings so deeply, who is a superior point guard, who holds onto her heart.

When he meets him, he realizes that Akashi is somehow just as clueless as Midorima is—he's quite different from their last meeting, not that Akashi probably remembers that and not that Takao really remembers Akashi from back then very well (all he remembers from that match is Midorima's shot, truthfully). Still, Akashi desires Midorima, not just physically—he wants all of her affection. Getting it from her will be a challenge, even if she does love him (which she obviously does) because of her personality, but Akashi no doubt knows that. But he looks as if he wants to tell her to care, as if he cannot see past her terribly flimsy façade. And she looks as if she will love him in spite of his desire—but she's such a fool sometimes; does she honestly think he wants to discard her?

(Of course, Takao doesn't know the whole story, but he doubts it could cloud their relationship this much.)

* * *

218\. Hurricane Eyes (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

"Pass me the ball, Sei-chan," she says, pressing her mouth into a tight line, dark eyes looking like they're filled with hurricanes.

"Of course," he says. She is the one who must defend her own honor against these players who firmly believe she should not be playing, no matter how much he'd like to do it for her. She's even more beautiful when she's angry, keeping herself under control but not bothering to veil the expression on her face.

She nearly gets a triple-double but doesn't get that tenth steal, not that it matters or that she's keeping track. Every time she touches the basketball it's with a sure hand, and her passes and shots are perfectly targeted. It's clear the other team didn't know what it was messing with.

Once the adrenaline has worn off and the game is over, she crashes. Her eyes are calm once more and she leans on Akashi's shoulder as they wait for the train.

"Don't fall asleep," he says, but she's already halfway there, even standing up.

* * *

219\. Released Inhibitions (Iwamura Tsutomu/fem!Kasuga Ryuuhei)

She sits directly in front of him by virtue of her height; she's taller than many of the boys in their class although she's still much shorter than him. Her long, toned arm looks elegant as she writes and he can't help but be transfixed by the sarcastic comments she makes under her breath during history lessons. He knows he's got it bad.

It's kind of obvious, too; the rest of the team knows. Omuro pats him on the shoulder and Sakamoto tries to push them together, but Kasuga herself hasn't noticed. She's too focused, on school and on basketball and on whatever's going through her head (he hopes thoughts of him are in there occasionally, even if he's just "basketball captain" or "classmate"—but they're friends, aren't they?) to notice what's going on, and he can't make a move. She'll probably think he's an idiot; she'd told him about all the teammates in middle school who'd asked her out and how awkward things had gotten. He can't do this to his team; he's the captain; the team comes before his feelings.

At least, that's the way it would be if his teammates didn't take it upon themselves to set them up yet again. Coach holds Iwamura and Kasuga after practice, and by the time they make it to the locker room everyone other than Sakamoto and Tsugawa has left already. Sakamoto hurries Tsugawa out despite his protests ("I haven't finished buttoning my shirt; why are you being so mean?") and gives Iwamura a wink. Kasuga looks confused but goes off to take a shower anyway.

Iwamura sits on the bench and takes a deep breath. He can do this. He can say something. He can make a move—but, no, this is the locker room and it would be weird and creepy; he's weird and creepy for having these feelings. She's his teammate; they should be like siblings, and not the incestuous kind of siblings. They should have a platonic camaraderie that is only a platonic camaraderie, despite his feelings. That should be it. But they won't go away and they're distracting him and glaringly obvious, and perhaps soon they will become obvious to her, too, and which is worse, an awkward confession and rejection or an elephant in the room? He's so lost inside his own head that he doesn't notice her reenter the room and get dressed until he feels the weight of her sitting down beside him on the bench and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Iwamura, are you okay?"

Before his inhibitions can take over, he kisses her. She smells like soap and her lips are soft and she kisses him back and brushes his cheek with her hand. After a few seconds, he realizes he can't breathe and pulls away.

She flushes scarlet. "Go take a shower," she mumbles, ruffling his hair.

She gets up and walks out of the locker room, not without throwing him a last glance. The door shuts behind her and he pumps his fist. Whatever it means, it's a hell of a lot better than he expected.

* * *

220\. Too Stubborn (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

It takes five days for Aomine to cave. It's been five days of loneliness and anger and boredom and way too much effort to ignore his boyfriend. It's not as if Midorima's calling him to beg for forgiveness or anything, but the thing about having so many friends and acquaintances in common is that they will see each other everywhere. It's ridiculous; they don't even go to the same school. But Aomine won't stop hanging out with his friends or going to parties just because he'll have to see Midorima there, and Midorima's the same way. They've been avoiding each other, staring pointedly right past each other, refusing to look at each other, and Aomine can't even remember what the fuck their fight was even about in the first place.

The problem is simply that they're both way too stubborn to apologize or admit that they were wrong, even though Aomine's pretty sure they're both at fault here. And he'll take the blame for the entire thing if it means they can just stop fighting. It's dumb; they've spent more than five days apart before, but just knowing that if he calls it'll probably go to voice mail and that his text messages will probably be ignored and that the last thing they did together was argue makes Aomine's chest ache.

He ditches practice; he waits outside the gym for Midorima—he always comes out for a break at the exact same time. (A week ago, this would have irritated Aomine, now he finds it endearing.) Predictably, Midorima comes out, wiping the sweat from his arms.

"Yo," says Aomine.

Midorima bites his lip and crosses his arms.

"Listen," says Aomine. "I'm sorry. I'm a stubborn asshole sometimes, I know, and I say really stupid shit that I don't mean, and, um." He scratches his head. He hadn't really prepared anything in particular to say. "I miss you."

Midorima's scowl softens. He sighs. "I…I'm…"

Aomine hugs him, breathing in the familiar and comforting scents and re-acclimating himself to the feel of Midorima's shoulder and the angle of his neck. Midorima sags into the hug and then pulls Aomine closer, almost too tightly.

"You don't have to say anything," says Aomine.

"But I want to," says Midorima. He pulls away, staring into Aomine's eyes—in five days he forgot just how brilliant of a green they are. "I love you. Please…forgive me."

"Already did that," says Aomine, though how the path from his brain to his mouth is still working is beyond him because the way Midorima says those things is just unfair. Their lips meet (which one instigated the kiss is unimportant and lost to the world) and it's finally right again.

* * *

221\. A Warmth Somewhere (Izuki Shun/Aida Riko)

His hand encases hers and his smile is dazzling (she can't deny his attractiveness, but it's more than this, it's the way he smiles for her). He's the perfect height for her to lean against his shoulder and she knows exactly how strong he is, how much force she can put on him.

"Look, Riko!" he says, pointing to a window display. "Isn't it cute?"

He's not really into cute things, but that knowledge escapes her in the moment as she rushes to press her face close to the glass. Bunny stationary, plush cats, candies in pink wrappers—she blushes and steps back a little bit.

"It's okay to be cute-rious, Riko."

It's almost freezing out as the sun's hazy glow is barely visible from behind the winter clouds. Despite his terrible puns, there's a warmth somewhere inside of her as he hugs her from behind and kisses the nape of her neck, and she has no idea where it came from. '

* * *

222\. Simplicity (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

Things are never simple and straightforward with Midorima; he says one thing and means another and he looks one way while speaking to a person standing on the other side of him. It's hard to say when yes means yes and no means no and yes means no and no means yes, and Aomine wonders why he hasn't given up yet. It's too hard, too taxing, to complicated, to wearisome to chip away at the layers of scar tissue around Midorima's heart, and yet here he is, belligerent and unwilling to pack it in. He's mad at himself, because none of this may be worth it, and at Midorima for being so damn difficult. Every time he touches Midorima, a whole world of complexities arises. And yet there's something beautiful about it, about Midorima's cautious inhibition and conditional smile that he can't quite name. (But he still likes things simple, okay?)

* * *

223\. Ariadne (Kise Ryouta/fem!Kuroko Tetsuya)

She's beautiful, delicate Ariadne, intelligent and more than capable of guarding and keeping the minotaur, the beast of burden of basketball. She's the one who solves the problems before you can even make heads or tails of the main issue and then calmly hands you a thread.

You're just Theseus, just another guy with a dream and his eye on her, who wants to slay her minotaur, except you're powerless. You can't do shit against Aomine or Kagami or even Haizaki, really. You're all hype and no substance; you can't light up her world or give her any meaning. You'd slay them all for her, free her if you could, because even if she didn't choose you (and she probably wouldn't, wouldn't even think of you as an option) she'd be happier and that would be enough to override the part of you that would tear itself up from the inside out, because as it is you're destroying yourself being powerless here, but a third-hand glance at her is better than nothing.

* * *

224\. Calamity (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

She looks like a calamity, a catastrophe, a storm. Her hair is matted from the sweat and the rain and her (supposedly waterproof) mascara is running down her face as she stands in his doorway, dripping on the nice carpet. If it was anyone else, he'd make some sort of remark or glare at them, but it's her and she knows damn well what she's doing and he'd rather the carpet be ruined than her, even though she's close.

She's the only person he knows who would go running in a thunderstorm, who would revel in the adrenaline rush of the lightning's sizzle and the wind in her face like this. She romanticizes everything, especially destruction. She systematically destroys her opponents in basketball and he will admit that it's quite beautiful, but she's also daring the world to destroy her before she does it herself. She plays basketball against the boys because she knows it's a battle that somewhere on the line she will have to give up, because even though she's better at seventeen she may be far worse at twenty-one, because they jeer at her and make snide remarks about her abilities and her intellect and her integrity and she basks in the glory of their hatred and then goes home and wonders if what they're saying is true, lets the doubt seep through the cracks. She dares them to knock her down, concuss her or break her bones. She wants to go out in a blaze of glory, wants to be a martyr. Does she not realize that so much of her is beautiful and perfect and should never be tampered with? Does she not realize how smart and focused she is? She's not playing dumb; he knows that.

He takes her in his arms and she shivers and mutters something about how his clothes will get ruined but he doesn't care. Clothes can be replaced, but she's irreplaceable.

* * *

225\. Some Days (Izuki Shun/fem!Kuroko Tetsuya)

When she gives him her serious expression and knocks him on the forehead, when behind that expression is a smile, he feels like his heart might actually explode. When she buys him a Pocari after practice and then slips her tiny hand in his, he wants to pinch himself. When they're just hanging out and talking or reading or playing with Nigou, it feels perfect and right and he wonders if it could stay like this forever. Those times, he thinks he wants to marry her—it would be way to scary (a scarriage proposal, if you will) at this point in their lives, but he's honestly ready to commit himself to her for the rest of his life. He wants to hold her when she cries and make her laugh and go through everything with her because she'd be the best companion, the only one he wants by his side. But he can wait a little longer before asking.

* * *

226\. Peace (Hanamiya Makoto/Takao Kazunari)

Makoto looks peaceful when he's asleep, and if one didn't know him one might suppose he's n angel, an untroubled soul, or at the very least a normal person (not that Takao's inclined to let anyone else watch him sleep, but that's beside the point). This is when there's no fear or anger or hate in his eyes, when his brow is relaxed, when his hands are not clenched, when his arms lie loose over Takao's waist. Takao kisses the inside of his wrist; he knows he won't be caught or slapped or scratched because Makoto is a very heavy sleeper. He breathes deeply and evenly and he shows more openness in a few hours of sleep than he does in an entire week's worth of waking hours.

Makoto shifts, rolling half on top of Takao, and Takao intertwines their fingers, and Makoto's body responds automatically by nuzzling Takao's neck. These moments are an odd, peaceful bliss that Takao would not trade for anything.

* * *

227\. Pretty Annoying Boy (Aida Kagetora/Izuki Shun)

Riko had warned him about the puns, but Tora had merely dismissed it. After all, Pretty Boy didn't make too many jokes when he was training, just went out and worked at it. His progress is admirable, as is his work ethic, and that and the looks were really what Tora liked about him. But then he did start with the puns that made no sense, and when he couldn't think of one about their situation he'd make another dumb tiger pun (not like Tora hasn't heard them all before) with that stupid, pretty grin on his face.

The only solution is to kiss him. Those pretty lips, while not great with words, are amazing when they're pressed against Tora's and that tongue is infinitely better when not forcing out puns and instead runs against Tora's teeth. Significantly less annoying that way, really.

* * *

228\. A Big Misunderstanding (Takao Kazunari/Hanamiya Makoto)

The bruises on Takao's body have gotten worse. He used to occasionally bang up his elbow from falling off the rickshaw or something like that, but in the past month his arms and legs and chest and back have been black and blue and purple and green. It doesn't take a genius to figure out the most likely cause—these bruises have only been appearing since Takao has been dating Hanamiya. Miyaji hates the bastard to begin with, and he really doesn't like the idea of him doing anything to Miyaji's kouhai. Is Takao an obnoxious brat? Fuck yes, but he's Miyaji's obnoxious brat and no one will hurt him if Miyaji has anything to say about it.

Miyaji tries to approach the subject sensitively, to try and say if Takao needs anything he can always come and talk to Miyaji but Miyaji's no good at talking and he knows Takao might be scared or embarrassed, so the only thing to do is confront Hanamiya. That should be easy enough; he comes by Shutoku to pick up Takao every so often.

(-)

The next time he drops by, Miyaji is ready. He walks up to Hanamiya and jabs him in the chest. "Just what the hell are you doing to Takao?"

Hanamiya grins. "Oh, his he really head-over-heels in love with me?"

Miyaji shudders. "Every time I see him, he has another bruise. I can put two and two together, bastard. It's all your fault."

"My fault? Whatever do you mean?"

"Don't play innocent, Hanamiya," Miyaji says.

"Oh?" says Takao, jogging up to them. "What's up?"

"He's been hurting you, Takao. I understand if you're too embarrassed to talk about it, but I can make sure he never comes near you again."

"What the fuck?" says Takao.

"Ever since you two started dating, you always look like you've been beaten up. I'm worried about you."

Takao starts to laugh.

"What's so fucking funny?" says Miyaji.

"Miyaji-san, I appreciate your offer, but…everything Mako-chan and I do is completely consensual."

"What?" says Miyaji.

"You know, he ties me up and stuff, too, sometimes, but it's only because I like it."

"Shut up, Takao," Hanamiya hisses.

"Oh, my god," says Miyaji. "I did not need to know that."

Perhaps he should have just left the situation alone.

* * *

229\. Much Easier (Takao Kazunari/Hanamiya Makoto)

It only takes a few shots for Makoto to get completely hammered as he steadies himself on Takao's arm and tries to make it seem like he's totally self-sufficient and fails horribly. He mumbles something unintelligible and tugs on Takao's hand. Takao's already smiling, but now his cheeks hurt what with how huge his grin is. Drunk Makoto is horny and abandons all pretenses; he just wants to fuck. Not that Takao doesn't enjoy making a game out of it, but there are times when he just doesn't care for it and right now, when he's kind of buzzed and Makoto's willing he's more than happy to oblige.

The best thing about Makoto's rich friends is their house parties, and the best thing about those parties is that there are always plenty of spare bedrooms. Takao pulls Makoto into the door, closing it behind him, and they make their way to the bed. Makoto is letting Takao take the lead here and remove both of their clothes, and Takao pulls Makoto down onto the bed as both of them are half-dressed and half-hard and dizzy from the atmosphere (and in Makoto's case the alcohol). Makot

* * *

o presses his lips to Takao's but doesn't bite, just moans and whines and grips Takao's hair tightly, pulls their faces together like the only way he can breathe is through Takao's mouth. Takao pushes him down to the bed, fighting to gain his bearings. Makoto is below him, flushed and panting and hard, and then he pulls Takao down on top of him.

"I want you," he croons off-key, and then laughs and licks Takao's ear.

Takao grins back and kisses him on the chin, causing Makoto's laughter to subside abruptly as another series of moans is ripped from his throat. Makoto grinds his hips against Takao's as Takao presses kisses down his neck. Makoto's hands are wandering and fumbling with Takao's underwear. Finally, he manages to yank them down and starts jerking Takao off. It feels really good, but Takao has to get out a condom before they get too far in the heat of the moment so he pushes Makoto back down and finds his discarded pants. Makoto whines.

He watches Takao put on the condom with unbridled enthusiasm and he spreads his legs before Takao's even done. Stretching him out only takes a minute or so, and he's already thrusting against Takao's fingers. When Takao enters him, he digs his nails into Takao's back (the alcohol must be wearing off) and licks his lips and why delay when they both want it?

* * *

230\. All You Have is Now (Mayuzumi Chihiro/Takao Kazunari)

All you have is now, the few stolen moments between the aisles in the bookstore, the few minutes of static-filled phone calls between obligations, the time spent between coming and going on a round-trip train ticket. Tomorrow, this could all come crashing down because you never paid much attention when you were building the foundations of this relationship and all of a sudden you were fifteen stories in the air together. The fragile bonds between you are already stretched thin from more space and less time. You're both agitated, almost always—even though he hides it behind his slate-grey eyes and you mask it with your laughter. Next year is nothing but a big question mark but so is next week, so you're both going to ignore the swaying platform beneath your feet and enjoy it while it lasts.

* * *

231\. Library (Mayuzumi Chihiro/fem!Izuki Shun)

She's in the humor section of the public library, standing on tiptoe to reach the joke book she wants with its distinctive orange spine. It's almost in her grasp, almost—and then her feet are about to give way so she lets her heels touch the floor and frowns. And then, from nowhere (did her eagle's eye stop functioning or is he just getting better at the invisibility thing?) he appears behind her. He reaches over her head, plucks the book from the shelf, and reaches over her shoulder to press the book against her torso. She takes it and spins around so he's pressing them together face-to-face.

He touches her cheek.

"Is this really a good idea?" she says.

"What are you thinking of?" he replies, but not without a grin.

She closes the gap between their mouths for a quick kiss and then pulls back. "Just this."

"Oh?"

"Well, anything more would be more-tifying if they saw us," she says.

He groans. "Please don't."

"Don't what?"

He flicks her on the forehead.

* * *

232\. So Damn Innocent (Miyaji Kiyoshi/fem!Hayama Kotarou)

He shoves her off of him again and she frowns, not quite a pout but not a scowl either, and bites her lip. Her huge eyes somehow get even wider and she clasps her hands together. He'd be hard-pressed to admit it, but Hayama actually looks kind of cute like this—cute and innocent, which she definitely 100% is not. Goddamn it; she looks so unhappy that he reaches out his hand almost reflexively to ruffle her hair—and she takes that moment to leap back into his arms and squeeze him so tightly he's afraid for his ribcage and nuzzle his neck and he's been had for a fool once more. She should be a fucking actress or something; she's the one who started all of this but he's the one who feels guilty every damn time.

* * *

233\. Longer (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Izuki Shun)

He shoves her off of him again and she frowns, not quite a pout but not a scowl either, and bites her lip. Her huge eyes somehow get even wider and she clasps her hands together. He'd be hard-pressed to admit it, but Hayama actually looks kind of cute like this—cute and innocent, which she definitely 100% is not. Goddamn it; she looks so unhappy that he reaches out his hand almost reflexively to ruffle her hair—and she takes that moment to leap back into his arms and squeeze him so tightly he's afraid for his ribcage and nuzzle his neck and he's been had for a fool once more. She should be a fucking actress or something; she's the one who started all of this but he's the one who feels guilty every damn time.

* * *

234\. Without Realizing (Mayuzumi Chihiro/Kise Ryouta)

It occurs to Ryouta that he's been in love for a while when he's washing the dishes after dinner alone, because it's not just disappointment that makes him long for Chihiro. It's a need, with his body and his mind and most of all his heart (because he's always been a romantic and no matter what logical answer Chihiro gives him about the heart being just an organ, there's a reason it beats faster sometimes). Ryouta doesn't just want to comfort Chihiro (no matter how much Chihiro says he doesn't need it) or Chihiro to comfort him, because Chihiro's mere presence will make him happier. He wants to hear Chihiro's voice or lie with his head in Chihiro's lap while Chihiro reads or run his fingers through the thick grey hair.

The key turns in the lock; Ryouta runs to the door. "Chihiro! Welcome back."

Chihiro gives him a half-smile and accepts his open arms, hugging Ryouta back. There's no need to say it; he already knows—but Ryouta is Ryouta, so he's going to, anyway.

"I love you so much, Chihiro."

Chihiro smiles against his neck. "I love you, too. Now let me go so I can hang up my coat."

* * *

235\. Shadows Meet (Takao Kazunari/Mayuzumi Chihiro)

They don't talk about their loneliness, really. It's pointless to rail against something that won't change. Takao finds it feels better if he tries to ignore the ache in his chest that comes from chasing after Midorima, from shouting his name into the wind and lifting him up and still being thrown only a couple of backwards glances. Mayuzumi simply accepts that he will be left again and again, no matter how much Takao tries to convince him that he deserves more—he shrugs and agrees with Akashi when he says he's outlived his usefulness and returns to his books and his thoughts.

They can be alone together, though, and then it's easier to forget. It's hard to be quite as bitter when you're experiencing quite this much pleasure, when the all-seeing meets the unseen, when you have someone to commiserate with. This is something secret and precious, something only they know, something more special than anything unattainable.


	14. Chapter 14

236\. All I Want for Christmas (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

They don't even have a tree this year. But in the scheme of things, trees are not important. Neither of them likes decorating it or carrying it down the stairs from their walkup apartment out onto the street two weeks into the new year when it's turned brown because they've been putting it off because work has been too tiring. But this year, they haven't even asked each other what they want, and Aomine hasn't had time to get Midorima anything. There's that one bottle of good rum he's been saving, but that hardly counts. How the hell he can't get off work early on Christmas Eve when he's been putting in extra hours for the last two months or so, he's not sure—they should really cut the crap about some other members of the force who have kids and stuff, because the kids are probably in bed even though the one who really needs to be in bed right now is Aomine. Someone else can handle this case, can't they?

He finally gets off and checks his phone. There's a message from Midorima from two hours ago. He's going to be late—well, he's probably home already.

(-)

The house is empty when Aomine comes in; he's starving but there's next to nothing in the fridge so he settles for eating lunch meat straight out of the bag, a habit of his that has become a guilty pleasure since moving in with Midorima. He'd rather have Midorima here yelling at him, right now. They've had almost no time since before Halloween together because they've both had to work so much. It's been a particularly tough winter season already for Midorima, what with the new strains of flu and more kids getting sick than ever, and he's had to work harder and longer than usual. Neither of them has done much more in the apartment these past weeks than shower, sleep, and change clothes. If Midorima asked what Aomine wanted right now, he'd say without hesitation, "time with you."

But what does Midorima want? The shops are probably closed already, anyway; Aomine had better just wrap up the rum if he can remember where he put it. He stands up, a wave of tired dizziness washing over him. It might be in his sock drawer. He wanders into the bedroom and opens the drawer, rifling through unmatched trouser socks and some sweat socks with holes in them. No rum. Was it in the back of that one cabinet behind the mixing bowls Midorima's sister gave them that they never use? Maybe.

Aomine steps out of the bedroom to find Midorima in the living room, sitting on the couch untying his shoes.

He's clearly tired, but a smile breaks out over his face when he sees Aomine. Aomine walks over to him and sits beside him, kissing him on the cheek. "Hey."

Midorima sighs. "Hey."

"Merry Christmas," says Aomine. The clock on the wall reads 1:14 AM.

"I…didn't get you anything. I'm sorry," says Midorima, busying himself with his shoelace.

"It's okay; all I want is you," says Aomine. "Besides, I didn't get you anything, either."

Midorima doesn't bother finishing with his shoe; he wraps his arms around Aomine and kisses him firmly on the mouth. "I want you, too," he whispers.

They fall asleep on the couch, sitting up, in each other's arms. No matter how sore they are tomorrow, they'll be together.

* * *

237\. Hidden Meanings (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

It was always about hidden meanings between them, the second and third thoughts, the undercurrents and the undertow that would drag them together. It was never about the surface, the two guards that were the foundation of the team, their shots and passes and powers. It was never about the schoolmates, the senpai and kouhai. When she called his name, when his gaze lingered on her, it was not for the reason others assumed. It always carried an "I like you" or "I want you" or "I need you" or "I love you", understood by the other but missed by everyone else. That was the way they liked it; that was the way they were in control of the situation.

He would brush his hand over hers and their eyes would meet and it would be no accident; she'd stand a little too close to him; they'd lean in toward each other; they'd whisper when it wasn't strictly necessary. But sometimes, their relationship would take on a transparency—he'd kiss her full-on in public; she'd hold his hand. But still, there was always something behind that, some reasoning that was clear only to them.

* * *

238\. Scrub (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mayuzumi Chihiro)

She excuses herself from class; the teacher won't notice her leave, anyway. She walks to the bathroom, stands at the sink, pours soap over her tingling hands. She rubs it in, turns on the water, scrubs away, digging into her nails. This is the third time this class period she's come here, distracted by thoughts of him. She can still feel the vibration of his whispering voice against her palm, the outline of his lips on her fingers, the imprint of his eyes on hers. She can't scrub it away; he's consuming her entire being. It's scary; it's threatening. She's so used to people's eyes sliding over her that the attention he gives her opinions, her feelings, her body are too much at once that they're threatening to overload her.

She can't hear his voice, but she can feel the exact vibrations of her name and other words, can pick out "Chihiro, my dear," and then the endless stream of poetry that comes out of his mouth; he has a way with words that she'd kill for. She's spent her life reading other people craft works of art out of the characters on the page and devouring them, but she herself does not write or speak particularly well despite her best efforts—and he's two years younger than her and infinitely better, but she has no time to be jealous because he's hers (as much as he can be anyone's) and that mouth speaks directly to her.

She turns off the water. Her palm tickles as she walks back to class.

* * *

239\. Crazy Masochist (Hayama Kotarou/fem!Miyaji Kiyoshi)

Is the love of your life someone who has punched you to death? Well, at least it would be a happy death, dying by that beautiful fist with its strong, solid impact. Miyaji's a fighter, through-and-through, and Hayama's a lover. He loves that about her, though, would never want her to change because her punches are perfect and accurate and send him flying (it doesn't take much, though, considering how skinny he is). Even if she never returns his feelings, he's never going to love anyone as much as he loves her right now, this he knows for certain. Besides, she gives him hope, sometimes, softens her blows and blushes and turns away. To say he lives for these moments would not be an exaggeration—if he doesn't die by her hand, he'll die by the lack thereof, by despair from her complete negativity, or even worse, by no attention at all.

* * *

240\. Smells Like Sunshine (Shirogane Eiji/Aida Riko)

She is young and she smells like sunshine in his arms; she is sunshine, as hackneyed as it sounds, weightless but more than substantial, casting everything in a glow and illuminating the dust. He is old; he is dusty. Somehow, though, with her, he forgets. She's young but she's already focused and serious and strong and self-sufficient, things he has only been able to pretend to be at this point in his life. And still, she offers him a small, firm hand and a smile. She's shy, though, still uncomfortable when he gives her all of his focus (she deserves that and more; she could be the center of the universe and keep everything in an ordered orbit). But she doesn't back down, meeting his lips squarely with her own. He'd love to just pick her brain for hours but sometimes he can't help but gape at how beautiful she is, the movement of her shoulders and the corners of her eyes and her beautiful neck and toned legs. And whenever he gets close, he breathes in her sunshine.

* * *

241\. At the Clinic (Takao Kazunari/Midorima Shintarou, Izuki Shun/Mayuzumi Chihiro)

Takao has a stupid grin on his face. It's not the right time of year for his checkup, but he's here anyway, with the clear intention of bothering Midorima. "Shin-chan-sensei, I think I know what my cure might be…"

"Oh?" says Midorima. "Well, then, why are you here?"

"Because you're the only one who can give it to me."

"Takao," says Midorima. "Everything's fine. You're not sick. Go home."

"But I'm lovesick!"

"I can send you to go get tested if you're that positive there's something wrong," says Midorima, a smile playing at his lips. "Lots of needles and x-rays, you know."

"You're no fun," says Takao.

"A visit to the doctor's isn't supposed to be fun," says Midorima. "You can pay up at the front desk."

"It's Christmas!" says Takao.

"Fine," says Midorima, and kisses him quickly on the mouth. "Now will you leave?"

Takao grins and practically skips out of the room.

(-)

"Have you heard that an apple a day keeps the doctor away?"

"Yes," says Izuki. "That's why I don't eat them."

"Well," says Mayuzumi, brandishing the apple from his lunch, "I've also heard that it keeps anyone away if you throw it far enough."

"Aww, don't be such a crabapple," says Izuki. Mayuzumi brings his arm back.

"Seriously, Izuki, I'm warning you."

Izuki stands up and kisses Mayuzumi on the throat. "A kiss on the Adam's apple a day keeps the doctor close."

Mayuzumi shoves him away. "You're just making shit up now. I have actual patients to see, now. I'll stop by later when I'm off."

"Christmas is for lovers. I'll Christ-miss you!"

"I will actually throw this apple at you if you don't shut up."

* * *

242\. Under the Table (Hanamiya Makoto/Midorima Shintarou)

Hanamiya moves closer to Midorima in the booth, even though there's plenty of room. "I'm cold, Shintarou; I need a big, strong man like you to warm me up," he says, batting his eyelashes.

Across the table, Yamazaki snickers.

"Like I'd say that," says Hanamiya.

Nevertheless, he tucks his hand between Midorima's thighs. Midorima bites his lip, trying to focus on the menu in front of him. Hanamiya's hand begins to lightly massage Midorima's crotch, and it's very hard for him to suppress a shudder.

"Are you ready to order?" says the waiter.

Midorima mutely nods as Hanamiya's strokes increase in intensity and frequency. It's all he can do to not lean back and close his eyes and open his legs, but somehow he's barely managing. Yamazaki orders; Hanamiya orders. Midorima struggles to find voice that is not ragged or punctuated by squeaks.

"Oh, dear; he's rather shy," Hanamiya says to the waiter. "I think he'd like the curry."

The waiter departs and Hanamiya's fingers slow. "Oh, Shintarou, you seem so out of it today. Is everything all right?"

"You," Midorima says, clenching his jaw, "are a bastard."

"Well, that's not very nice," says Hanamiya.

* * *

243\. What's in a Name (Akashi Seijuurou/Mibuchi Reo)

Mibuchi steadies himself, takes a deep breath. "Se—er, Akashi-kun."

Akashi looks up. "What is it, Reo?"

"About my practice schedule, is it still the same?"

"Do you feel it is not challenging enough?" says Akashi.

"No, that's not it at all. I was just wondering. Thanks, um…Akashi-kun."

He turns around to see Nebuya giving him a weird look. He jerks his head toward Akashi and raises an eyebrow. Mibuchi puts his best "I have no idea what you're talking about" face on. So what if he wants to be a little more polite? It wouldn't be bad if Nebuya actually started using honorifics himself.

Akashi himself doesn't seem bothered by it. He continues making notes on the clipboard. "I suggest you two start practicing."

Mibuchi and Nebuya head off toward the weight room.

"Hey," says Nebuya, "did you two break up or something?"

"What?" says Mibuchi. "No."

"So why aren't you calling him Sei-chan anymore?"

Mibuchi blushes. "I…we're having dinner with his father next week. I can't slip up and call him Sei-chan then; that'd be too familiar. His father would hate me."

Nebuya stares at him again. "Reo, he's not going to take issue with something like that."

"How do you know?" Mibuchi says. He knows he sounds kind of hysterical. "Have you met the man? And Sei—Akashi-kun is okay with it."

"Yeah, well," says Nebuya. "If it makes you feel better, it's fine, I guess."

* * *

243\. Unintentionally Cute (Mayuzumi Chihiro/fem!Izuki Shun)

She bites her lip when she's trying to think of the perfect pun, absentmindedly twirls a lock of hair around her finger, stares straight through him, focusing on something that only she can see, something more invisible than he is but at the same time more visible. It's captivating and it's adorable. He's reminded of a cat closely guarding a bug or a mouse, taking its time before making just the right pounce (her jokes are lethal). He's never going to tell her how cute she is, because her lack of self-consciousness and intent is what makes her so cute in the first place, so he settles for smiling at her and rolling his eyes at her jokes and letting her think the only reason he's kissing her is to make her stop with the puns.

* * *

244\. White Christmas (Alexandra Garcia/Himuro Tatsuya)

It's snowing in Akita, not that it's helpful—it's always snowing there. Besides, they're in Tokyo. It's cloudy and freezing but they're not supposed to get any snow. The clouds will blow over and they'll have a crisp, sunny Christmas.

At least in Los Angeles, they'd be warm. And Tatsuya's tried so hard to make everything perfect for Alex when she's never had a cold, snowy Christmas. He's only had a few, and most of them were before he can remember, but Alex never has. For her, Christmas is balmy and mild, and while there's something to be said about Christmas in California, there's a reason Christmas snow is romanticized.

"Let's stay inside today," she says, clutching her mug of hot chocolate. "It's cold."

They're holed up in a hotel in Tokyo even though Taiga had offered to let them stay at his place. It would have been more economical, but they rarely get time on their own anymore so they're spending Christmas Eve and Christmas here. It's odd to be cold as the rays of sun filter through the sheer curtain and they lie in bed together.

"Do they have a yule log channel here?" Alex asks.

"Really, Alex?"

She shrugs. "Can't hurt to ask."

They're both pretty sleepy; she's still jet-lagged and disoriented and he's had a hell of a lot of work lately. Their companionable silence drifts into a comfortable sleep in the warm light.

(-)

When they wake up, it's dark out. Tatsuya's mouth is dry and he slept in a funny position so his arm hurts. He sits up and tries to stretch, immediately wishing he hadn't. Beside him, Alex stirs. She rolls over and gropes around for her glasses, picking them up, putting them on, and sitting up.

"How late is it?" she says, yawning.

"It's…only 6:15," he says, throwing a glance at the clock.

"I'm kind of hungry," she says and turns on the light. "Do you know any place we could go for dinner?"

She's probably more familiar with Tokyo than he is. He shrugs. "You have anything in mind?"

She shakes her head. "Should we just go out and find some place?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

(-)

They step outside the hotel lobby, bundled in coats and scarves and hats, and into the softly-falling snow. Even though it's early, people aren't out and there really aren't too many cars. It's not as if they're in an especially quiet neighborhood, but…it's peaceful. The Christmas lights in the shop across the way shine through the flakes. Alex gazes up at the sky in wonder and squeezes Tatsuya's hand. The smile on her face is radiant, melting away the cold, brighter than the lights.

* * *

245\. Your Choice (Nijimura Shuuzou/fem!Akashi Seijuurou)

Akashi's never had a real Christmas tree, only one that arrives in the middle of the day while she's at school and when she comes home it's already been decorated by the servants. Nijimura's gone without a tree some years (there was that one year when they moved on New Year's and everything was in boxes and he and his sister had stacked some of them into a pyramid—not that they'd had anything to put under the tree, anyway, because all of their extra money was going toward moving expenses and the last month's rent for the old place) but when they have had the money and the time, it's been a real tree. When he was young his father would lift him up to place the star on top, and then he grew too heavy to lift and then there was no one to lift him at all but by that point he was tall enough to reach the top anyway.

Akashi, apparently, has always wanted to have tinsel on the tree, but her father always said it was too tacky. Nijimura would probably agree with him, but he's willing to compromise on this issue. It's just a tree, after all. But liking the idea of tinsel and knowing how to use it are two completely different things, and the always-proper Akashi has found herself with tinsel stuck to her sweater and her hair.

"Shuuzou," says Akashi. "It is supposed to stick to the tree, isn't it?"

"Yes," he says. "There's a method to not getting it everywhere, though, and I don't know it."

She glares at him.

"You were the one that wanted tinsel." He gets up anyway and picks a large piece from her hair, or at least partway—he gets distracted by her gorgeous cheekbones and starts caressing her face.

"Shuuzou, the tinsel," she says, although it's a second-rate gesture at best. She grabs his shirt and pulls him down for a kiss.

* * *

246\. Under the Mistletoe (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

Normally, Aomine would grumble the loudest about Satsuki's damn mistletoe, which is spread everywhere throughout her apartment for her holiday party. He's had to endure plenty of awkward kisses (though most people met his eyes and they nodded at each other and stepped away before anyone noticed) with friends, acquaintances, and a couple of Satsuki's coworkers. This year, though, it works in his favor because there's actually someone he wants to kiss. The problem is finding him and getting him under the mistletoe, because Midorima seems very intent upon avoiding it. He's gotten good at it from years of experience, sidestepping with barely a glance upward. But no one can stop Aomine when he's this focused, and he will get a kiss from Midorima before this night is through.

Luckily, there's a thick area of people right near one branch, and Midorima's headed in that direction. Aomine nearly sprints across the room as Midorima veers to the left to avoid walking under the mistletoe, and then one of Satsuki's tipsy cousins jostles him backward accidentally and he and Aomine are right under it.

"Well," says Aomine. "Looks like we have to kiss now."

Midorima's about to try to get away when Aomine captures his smooth cheek in his palm and pulls their faces together. Their lips meet. At first, Midorima does nothing, but then he begins to kiss back, pressing his lips firmly (if not quite eagerly) against Aomine's. They open their mouths simultaneously; Midorima tastes like peppermint schnapps and some kind of fruit and his tongue is smooth and he is really good with it, running it under Aomine's and over the insides of his lips. Where the hell did an uptight guy like Midorima learn something like this? Okay, he might be a little tipsy and that might have something to do with it, but it sure as hell can't be everything.

They separate finally, and Aomine's hand slides down to meet Midorima's. Their fingers lock. "Let's find another branch of mistletoe," says Aomine.

"There might be one in the hall closet," says Midorima.

* * *

247\. Daring (Iwamura Tsutomu/fem!Kasuga Ryuuhei)

Tsugawa insists upon playing truth or dare. No one else really wants to, but he's so damn annoying about it that Kasuga caves and the rest of the team does right after her. They end up sitting in a circle on the floor with a half-empty bottle of rum in the middle.

"So, Tsugawa," says Omuro. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," says Tsugawa.

"I dare you to prank call the pizza place."

Tsugawa pulls out his phone and presses a number.

"You have the pizza place on speed dial?" says Kasuga.

"Hello?" says Tsugawa. "Yes, is your refrigerator running?"

Apparently, they hang up on him right away. He puts away his phone and shrugs. "So, then, Iwamura. Truth or dare?"

"Dare," says Iwamura.

"I dare you to kiss Kasuga."

Iwamura turns bright red. "I…I…"

"I called the pizza place," says Tsugawa. "Just kiss her already."

"It's fine, Tsugawa," says Kasuga. "If he doesn't want to, he doesn't have to." After all, it'll be awkward for him because he doesn't like her but he's a nice guy and he's going to feel bad. "I'll do whatever dare you come up with."

But suddenly his lips are on top of hers, and she can't even gasp. His mouth is warm and wet and this isn't a short, awkward peck, it's a full-on "I like you" kind of kiss (or at least what she imagines that to be; she's only ever kissed anyone before during games of spin the bottle in middle school and it's Christmas so she's going to believe as hard as she can right now even if it all comes crashing down when she opens her eyes).

He pulls back, still blushing. Their eyes meet and she grins at him. He kisses her again, wrapping his strong arms around her and pulling her into his lap. The next time they come up for air, Tsugawa, Sakamoto and Omuro have adjourned to who-knows-where with the rum. But now they have no excuse not to keep going.

* * *

248\. Like a Reindeer (Akashi Seijuurou/Aida Riko)

"You know, Riko," he says as he's putting on the Santa hat. "If I am Santa Claus, you should be a reindeer."

She turns around. "Drive your own sleigh. I have a party to organize."

She really isn't scared of him. She's not bluffing; she just doesn't care. It should make him angry; were it anyone else he would be angry. But she's not looking down on him; she sees him as her equal. She's not elevating herself beyond her reach; she's smart and motivated and tough and hard-working. She's admirable. She'll invite him to her Christmas party and if her friends get mad she'll glare at them because she wants him there.

The nape of her neck is bare, too low for her hair and too high for her collar. He presses a kiss there. At first she stiffens, but then she relaxes. He wraps his arms around her slim waist and she leans back against his chest. He's only average height, but she's so small in his arms despite her strength.

"Will there be mistletoe at this party?" he asks.

She kicks him in the shin. "Go back to wrapping presents."

* * *

249\. How to Woo (Hyuuga Junpei/Aida Riko)

"How to be more feminine?" Momoi cocks her head and her long hair spills out over her arm and she's so obviously a woman that Riko almost cringes. "Aida-san, you're plenty feminine already."

Riko rolls her eyes. "Not really. I mean, you're the one who's always reminding me of my flat chest."

Momoi laughs. "Aida-san, boobs don't make you more feminine. It's hard to explain, but you're very womanly. No one would ever mistake you for a man from your looks or from your personality. I mean, you're not overly feminine, always talking about makeup and hair and checking out your reflection in every mirror and flirting with every boy that crosses your way and that sort of thing—but that's not really femininity, either." She sighs. "It's…I don't know. But Hyuuga-san doesn't like that kind of girl, the overly-feminine or the trying-too-hard-to-be-feminine type, anyway."

"Who said anything about Hyuuga-kun?" Riko snaps.

Momoi shrugs. "Woman's intuition."

(-)

As much as Hyuuga despises Mibuchi, he knows a hell of a lot about courting women. It's not fair, really; he's not interested in any of them but they flock to him anyway. He seems rather amused by Hyuuga's explanation of what he needs, but agrees to help.

"Really, Junpei-chan, it's simple," Mibuchi says. "Each girl is a unique and special person. What is it about the one you like that makes her so special? Treat her that way. Open the door for her. Ask her if she needs anything when she's being too stubborn to say what it is and then do it for her if she still refuses to tell you. Respect her. And let her know your intentions."

If he lets all these girls know his intentions, why do they still fawn all over him? Hyuuga's not inclined to follow this advice, but…it's better than what he can come up with on his own.

(-)

They meet at the café, both of them incredibly self-conscious and neither of them able to communicate anything to the other very well. A few minutes of stuttering through attempted conversation and Riko just gives up, sighing and staring down at her cappuccino. She remembers Momoi's words and then looks up. The furrow of concern between Hyuuga's eyes, the way he's looking at her, how he leans over the table, all of them give her enough courage to clasp his hand in hers and say what she feels.

"Hyuuga-kun," she says, stare not wavering from his eyes. "I like you." It's not what she considers to be particularly feminine.

His face turns bright red. He opens his mouth but can't say anything. Oh, well, she made the first move and she can make the second one, too, so she kisses him.

* * *

250\. Clearly (Aida Kagetora/Araki Masako)

She sees him in the gym, working out alongside of her, and in the grocery store buying meat when she's in the produce section. He's on the train, sitting across from her and reading the paper, or passing her on the streets. He's got to be stalking her.

He's always attentive, too, hurrying up to her to say hello or ask her a random question, and it's so annoying and irritating. It's harmless, though, so while she has her ladies keep an eye on him it's probably nothing to worry about.

It's not; it goes away one day when his attentions suddenly shift to another woman. Instead of relief, Masako is angry and very lonely. She's used to seeing him everywhere, and now he no longer fits in her world at all. It's as if he's a ghost in here and only alive when he's with that woman. It's too little, too late, and when Masako realizes she loves him she cries. It's all right, though; she's alone in the gym this time, exercising in the emptiness with no one beside her.

* * *

251\. Shocker (Kuroko Tetsuya/Takao Kazunari)

It's probably good for Kagami to get all of the trash talk out of him by yelling threats and bragging at Midorima, who rebuffs him at every turn but doesn't get too mad at him and go crazy at him. Yes, Midorima decides, he is a very patient man. Well, to an extent, because where the hell is Takao with the rickshaw?

Midorima glances around and spies a flash of the shiny black color of Takao's hair. It might not be him; this person's back is to Midorima and considering that they're at Shutoku it's not at all unlikely for a random person to be wearing the Shutoku uniform. He walks toward the person and Kagami follows, still shouting. Midorima rolls his eyes and walks around the corner.

Takao is making out with Kuroko against a wall. There's no other way to describe it. Takao's hand is up Kuroko's shirt and Kuroko is squeezing Takao's ass. Kagami is struck speechless, and Midorima blinks a few times to make sure he's seeing everything correctly and clears his throat.

Takao turns around. "Whoops, it looks like we've been found out, Tecchan."

Kuroko smooths down his uniform. "Hello, Kagami-kun, Midorima-kun."

Kagami is still speechless, robotically pointing back and forth between Kuroko and Takao.

"Yup, we're an item," says Takao.

"You're what?" says Midorima.

"An item," says Takao. "Dating. Boyfriends. Whatever you want to call it."

"I…see," says Midorima. He can sense himself blushing.

"What the fuck?" says Kagami. "He plays for Shutoku, Kuroko, you can't date the enemy!"

Kuroko shoots Kagami a withering look and clutches Takao's hand in his.

Midorima pushes up his glasses. "Let's go, Kagami," he says, and drags Kagami back off the other way as Kagami begins to spout obscenities about Kuroko being a traitor to the team and the school.

"They took it better than I expected," says Takao.

* * *

252\. Smallest Strongest (Kagami Taiga/Aida Riko)

Her hand is small, dwarfed by his (she's almost a foot shorter than he is, after all) but it's warm and strong, and the warmth is spreading from her into him. He still can't believe a girl like her—smart, talented, beautiful, lively—wants anything to do with a guy like him. Sure, he's good at basketball and cooking, but he can't hold intellectual debates with her or even keep up with her line of thinking sometimes.

But he shouldn't doubt himself. After all, she'd said it was his confidence that she liked most about him, wasn't it? But even though he tries hard to project an image of strength, she's still stronger, the strongest of all of them. They lost and she did not cry, did not shout or get angry, though she had her regrets. She did not wallow in her misery or the what-ifs or the apologies. She just got up and started over again, worked them harder but worked herself harder three times over. He owes her this much—not to doubt her or himself.

But this relationship is not about owing and shoulds. It's about love and trust and him and her, as they are. And the warmth she radiates inside of him is leaking so that he is radiating it himself, making the snow melt beneath his feet.

* * *

253\. Why Worry (Nebuya Eikichi/Hayama Kotarou)

Kotarou's so full of energy, even though he doesn't eat nearly as much as he should if he ever wants to build any muscle. He can't sit still long enough to eat very much, and he always gives his leftovers to Eikichi, something Reo tells him he should feel very bad about doing but honestly he doesn't. It's not like he's forcing Kotarou to give him the food, although he does help himself more than occasionally to what's on Kotarou's plate. He gives Kotarou candy in return, which he always buys but never eats because it always tastes like crap to him even though it's high-carb and that's good before you work out. Reo glares at him again for that, but so what if it makes Kotarou even more hyper? He jumps higher and runs faster and generally goes harder and they play better. And, okay, he can't deny that weird but pleasing feeling when Kotarou gives him a thank-you hug and leaps on top of him.

Sometimes, Kotarou grabs his hand and locks their fingers together even though it's slightly uncomfortable what with the size difference, but the brilliant smile on Kotarou's face is even brighter than usual, so Eikichi can't really help but indulge him. He doesn't know what this feeling is, but why bother worrying about it?

* * *

254\. After the Shift (Mayuzumi Chihiro/Takao Kazunari)

It's a waste to just scrub off the makeup after work, especially when it looks so pretty (he's not being conceited or anything; his coworker works miracles with her makeup bag) so Kazunari always brings some women's clothes to change into because he can't exactly wear the maid's uniform out on the street. That's just asking for it. He can keep the shoes and stockings, but he slips on a miniskirt and a baggy sweater over that to hide that he doesn't actually have curves. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he decides that he does make a rather nice-looking woman. But he shouldn't waste this momentary beauty on the mirror in the back room of a maid café, so he turns and sashays out.

Several customers waiting to be seated give him an approving once-over as he walks out and Kazunari grins. It's nice to be noticed. The streets outside are crowded but he walks fast; his legs are long (though they look longer and slimmer in this skirt and tights). Okay, so he's a little vain—his reflection in a store window is captivating and he slows down enough to bump into someone walking the other way, reading a book.

He wasn't expecting to run into his boyfriend here. Oh, Chihiro knows about the cross-dressing thing and doesn't find it weird or disgusting. He's never really expressed any interest in seeing Kazunari in a maid outfit or even just regular women's clothes. Chihiro blinks at him for a second before recognizing him and then folds down the page in his book.

"Kazunari-kun," he says. "Hello."

Kazunari grins. "Hey, Chii-chan, what's up?"

"Just going for a walk," says Chihiro. "Did you just get off from work?"

Kazunari nods. "But I'm free right now."

Chihiro takes Kazunari's hand in his. "Let's go on a date, then."

It's rare for him to hold Chihiro's hand; he's self-conscious even with his lack of presence, and they do tend to attract rude stares sometimes. It's a lot easier when Kazunari's just another pretty girl. It's kind of liberating, actually, to hold hands and giggle (well, Chihiro doesn't giggle; he occasionally smirks but usually keeps the same placid expression on his face) and be a couple in public.

They get a table in a diner and order shitty coffee, and Chihiro can't seem to stop staring at Kazunari's face. "What is it?" Kazunari asks.

"Nothing, really," says Chihiro. "But your eyes look beautiful."

"That's the eyeshadow and mascara," says Kazunari.

"They can't bring out what's not already there," says Chihiro.

At that moment, Kazunari wishes for the privacy of a bedroom or another small space. He settles for kissing Chihiro on the cheek and leaving a bright pink lipstick mark.

* * *

255\. Moonlight (Momoi Satsuki/Kise Ryouta)

The moonlight plays tricks, throws shadows across the ceiling from the outlines of the windowpanes. That was one of the reasons they'd bought this apartment; they'd both been too busy to go on the tour until late one winter afternoon after the sun had set and the moon was shining beautifully through the bedroom window and they'd looked at each other and they knew they had to have it. They're both idealists at heart despite knowing how the world works and how it breaks people, despite the deference she shows and the calculation she uses. And when the moonlight shines through this window, she snuggles into his chest and breathes in his scent as they bask in the eerie glow of the night.

* * *

256\. No Happy Ending (Mayuzumi Chihiro/fem!Izuki Shun)

The fairy tale begins when they are dissatisfied. When he loses, when he doesn't get into his top choice college, when he can't find a job, when she fades into the background, when she's on her own, when she's not sure what she wants but knows that whatever it is she doesn't have it and can't find it—that's when they are drawn to each other. They meet; they fall in love the way a headstrong heroine and a simple hero often do. But they are still not satisfied, will not settle for a cliché of a story told over and over. They blaze new paths and start a new story, an epic for the ages, because a plain old happy ending will never do.

* * *

257\. Winter Wonderland (Izuki Shun/Kuroko Tetsuya)

Izuki's childlike energy is quite infectious; he's bounding around in the snow, Nigou following, making snow angels and popping back up, frozen and wet and not caring at all. "Come on, Kuroko!" he calls.

Without waiting for an answer, he jumps on top of Kuroko and drags him into the snow. Kuroko shivers and wrinkles his nose.

"This is snow much fun, isn't it?" says Izuki.

"Not at all," says Kuroko. "I'd like to go inside."

"But it's snow magical!"

"It's even worse when you repeat the jokes," says Kuroko. "Please stop that, Izuki-kun."

Nigou nuzzles into Kuroko's chest. "See, he wants to go inside, too," says Kuroko.

"But we just got out," says Izuki, pouting. Are his lips turning blue from the cold?

Well, they're sitting in a snowdrift out of sight and no one's around. Kuroko kisses Izuki quickly, regretting it instantly because Izuki's lips actually are freezing cold. Izuki's stunned, though, so he allows Kuroko to help him to his feet and lead him to the door so they can finally go back inside.

* * *

258\. Cooking for Dummies (Kagami Taiga/Aida Riko)

"I mean," says Taiga, "It says 'a reference for the rest of us,' too!"

"That is in tiny letters," says Riko. "If this is a joke, I'm not laughing."

"It's not a joke," says Taiga. "It got good reviews online, and since I can't teach you how to cook maybe this can."

Riko crosses her arms and stares up at him. She's quite intimidating, even with bedhead. Taiga gulps and steps backward.

"How would you like it if I got you a book called  _Studying for Dummies_?" she asks. "You wouldn't."

Well, no, but that's different, isn't it? But arguing is no use and it doesn't really matter anyway because Riko looks so hurt and upset and okay, Taiga's not the best at getting gifts but he really didn't mean for it to turn out like this. "Shit. I'm really sorry, Riko," he says.

He steps toward her. She still looks upset, but she lets him get closer and lets him pull her into a tight hug, although she does not reciprocate the gesture.

"I just…I thought you wanted to learn how, and it upset you that you couldn't. You know." He immediately wonders if he should have just kept his mouth shut.

"I do," she says quietly. "But it always ends in disaster. You'd try to help, anyway, like you always do, and we'd end up fighting again."

And she doesn't like being reminded of things she can't do, of things she doesn't have, even though she can do almost anything and has so much—but nobody does.

Finally, she wraps her arms around him. "You're the dummy, though."

"Yeah," he says. "I know."

"No, you're not," she says. "You do know that, right?"

* * *

259\. Weird (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

Midorima Shintarou is a weird guy; there's no question about that. Everyone's first impression of him is that he's strange (perhaps "strange but smart" or "weird but good at basketball" or "impressive…but a little out there" but the sentiment works its way in there somehow) and though he'll deny it until the end, it's true. Still, it's kind of a comforting strange. Omine's lived with Midorima long enough to be familiar with most of his idiosyncrasies, even if he doesn't understand them completely. He knows he's going to wake up to Midorima watching the Oha Asa morning show and drinking a cup of coffee with exactly two packets of his favorite brand of sugar; he knows Midorima will be out the door at exactly three minutes past eight. He knows Midorima puts on his right sock first, then his left sock, then his left shoe, then his right shoe. He knows exactly how many hours Midorima practices the piano every week, even if he's about to keel over from exhaustion because of work. He knows Midorima's happy but he's afraid to smile, afraid to acknowledge it because that might jinx it, that Midorima's smile is like a shooting star in its rarity and beauty. He likes to call Midorima a weirdo and to see him scowl in response, to kiss him in the morning and hear Midorima complain about his breath. Aomine could never be happy with a conventional person.

* * *

260\. Against the Mantra (Imayoshi Shouichi/Hanamiya Makoto)

Imayoshi knows Hanamiya better than Hanamiya knows Hanamiya, and it's infuriating. Hanamiya will say he doesn't like something or doesn't want something, and Imayoshi will give him that smirk and then Hanamiya will gradually realize that he's right, but he can't admit it because he has to win; he can't lose to Imayoshi—but then Imayoshi just ignores Hanamiya's protests. He'll kiss Hanamiya's eyebrows or touch him in a certain way or buy him a drink that Hanamiya is still pretending not to like—no, he really actually doesn't like it. He doesn't like any of it. If he chants it like an unbroken mantra inside his head, it'll work.

Imayoshi has other ideas, though, and his hungry kiss (in which he bites Hanamiya and scratches his neck before Hanamiya can do it to Imayoshi) interrupts the mantra and Hanamiya forgets what he wants, can only feel brief sensations and Hanamiya doesn't know which ones he's supposed to enjoy but it doesn't matter because all of it feels really fucking good.

* * *

261\. Shivering and Aching (Akashi Seijuurou/Izuki Shun)

Izuki's unsteady, shivering and aching like he's got a fever but he's checked his temperature seven times and it's normal. There's something amiss; he can't sit right; he can't breathe easy. The bed's too empty without Akashi's grip, Akashi's arms encircling him, Akashi's weight beside him. Akashi's been away before, for longer periods and with less contact, but Izuki's at his limit right now without any kind of explanation.

"I've got scarlet fever," he whispers to himself, but there's no one to hear him and he doesn't want to write it down. All he wants is Akashi. He shivers again, pulls the covers tighter around him.

The floorboards squeak; he opens his eyes. There's Akashi, but he's not due home for another day. He's got to be hallucinating now; this is bad.

"I'm back, Shun," he says. "Did you miss me?"

Izuki doesn't care if he's real or not. He nods and reaches out, and Akashi catches his hands in his own. There's no way a hallucination would be this good.

* * *

262\. One Less Apology (Wakamatsu Kousuke/Sakurai Ryou)

Wakamatsu drags his thumb over Sakurai's bottom lip and Sakurai starts. He's like a cat the way he's overly skittish and wary, relaxing gradually and then jumping up again when he finds something unfamiliar. Wakamatsu's hand is large enough to cover Sakurai's whole face; he marvels sometimes about how tiny Sakurai is compared to him even though there's less than a year and a half between them. He won't break, though, even when Wakamatsu is careless and crude. He's just so fucking cute sometimes, the way his lips tremble and his eyes widen.

"God, Ryou, do you know what you do to me?"

He's not sorry about that, of course, but he damn well should be.

* * *

263\. Contrition (Imayoshi Shouichi/Sakurai Ryou/Hanamiya Makoto)

Sakurai can't suppress another whimper as Imayoshi fiddles with the waistband on his pants.

"Good boys should keep quiet," says Hanamiya, pulling on Sakurai's hair. Sakurai opens his mouth but closes it again, clenching his teeth.

"Good, Ryou," says Imayoshi. He looks pointedly at Hanamiya.

Hanamiya kisses Sakurai deeply, and Sakurai screws up his face and digs his fingers into the sheets and bucks his hips against Imayoshi's hands, but does not make a sound.

Imayoshi slides off Sakurai's pants and underwear, and Sakurai gasps at the cold air on his skin.

Hanamiya pulls away. "You're a very bad boy, Ryou."

"Y-yes," says Sakurai. "I'm sorry!" Tears are spilling from his eyes as he shakes.

"Hmm, I don't know if you're being sincere," says Imayoshi.

"Please…" Sakurai whispers, closing his eyes. "I'm really, really sorry."

"I don't know," says Hanamiya, whispering close to Sakurai's ear.

Sakurai's cock twitches. Imayoshi smirks at Hanamiya.

Well, both of them could have a lot of fun using their voices on Sakurai, and they both have the patience for it—but Sakurai doesn't, and it would ruin the fun if he came before they were finished warming up. They can teach him patience, but it won't happen in a day.

"All right, he's been contrite enough," says Imayoshi.

* * *

264\. Sweeter than Sugar (Akashi Seijuurou/Furihata Kouki)

"Seijuurou-san, would you like any sugar in your tea?" Kouki calls from the kitchen.

Seijuurou always takes two cubes, but Kouki always asks him even though he knows that. "You might change your mind," he'd said when Seijuurou had given him a look that one time—he understands Seijuurou's looks and he cares, asking every time not because he forgets but because he wants to be sure. It's sweet; Kouki is sweeter than any sugar, so perhaps Seijuurou can forgo it for today.

"No, thank you," says Seijuurou.

A few seconds later, Kouki comes in with two hot mugs and sits down on the couch next to Seijuurou. He knows how to make tea just right, how to steep it for the perfect amount of time, how to use just the right amount of tea leaves.

"Come closer," says Seijuurou.

Kouki obliges, moving into the crook of Seijuurou's shoulder and putting on a shy smile. Everything about him is more precious than a diamond, and Seijuurou can afford some pretty big diamonds. But nothing compares to Kouki's hand on his thigh and those big eyes looking up at him and the perfect cup of tea and the warmth spreading out from his body.

* * *

265\. Better Company (Akashi Seijuurou/Imayoshi Shouichi)

Susa just had to go home this weekend, leaving Imayoshi all on his own with no plans and no one to hang out with. It's cold, but staying inside and lazing about gets boring really fast. Even in his heaviest coat, Imayoshi shivers. He puts his head down but keeps on the lookout for a coffee shop or a deli or something where he can get a hot drink.

There's no line in the small bakery when he enters, and only a few people sitting at tables with their newspapers or laptops. The pastries look delicious, but he doesn't have much money on him so he decides to just go for a cup of green tea. While he's waiting for his drink, the bell on the door tinkles and a familiar person walks in.

"Ah, Akashi-kun, how nice to see you."

"Oh," says Akashi, looking unsurprised as usual. "If it isn't Shouichi."

Imayoshi raises an eyebrow. He's not going to get used to the first name thing anytime soon, particularly since no one has ever called him Shouichi (his grandmother prefers to use a nickname, and his parents don't really call him anything).

"What brings you to Tokyo on a day like this?" says Imayoshi. The cashier brings him back his tea and looks toward Akashi.

"One medium coffee, two creams," says Akashi. "Family obligation."

"Oh, you didn't bring them with you? I would have liked to meet them."

"You barely know me," says Akashi. "My father's busy, and probably won't have time to see me before I go back to Kyoto, anyway."

"I reckon we'd be in a similar situation, then, hmm?" says Imayoshi.

Akashi shrugs. "Perhaps we would."

(-)

An hour later, they're still sitting in the bakery. Imayoshi has warmed up considerably, both physically and to Akashi. Sure, he's not as fun to tease as Wakamatsu, but he's very intelligent and a good conversationalist who, despite being as snobby as Aomine had said he was, considers Imayoshi to be close to his level. And he's also quite cute, both in appearance and in mannerisms, the way he fiddles with the cardboard sleeve on his coffee cup and the way he lifts his chin and those heterochromatic eyes and his slim wrists.

"It'll be a shame to go back out," Imayoshi says. "The dorm is so far from here."

"I suppose you can come to my house for a brief visit," says Akashi.

Both of them are aware of the secondary implications, of course.

* * *

266\. Five (Imayoshi Shouichi/Susa Yoshinori/Wakamatsu Kousuke/Sakurai Ryou/Kagami Taiga)

Strong, calloused fingers massage Kagami's nipples and Wakamatsu's soft tongue licks lines down Kagami's sternum. He moans and Wakamatsu moves his mouth to the right, teasing around Kagami's nipple as he shudders. His attention abruptly shifts downward as Susa cups Kagami's cock in his hand, runs a thick finger up and down the length. Kagami can barely swear through his gritted teeth; Susa's movements aren't getting any faster.

"Open your mouth," Imayoshi drawls. "C'mon, ace."

He traces his thumb over Kagami's chin and under his lip, and Kagami reflexively parts his lips.

"Good," says Imayoshi. He sticks his fingers inside and Kagami sucks, harder as Susa's pace increases and Wakamatsu bites his collarbone and flicks one of his nipples. Pressure on his lower half again makes him focus downward, although he can't see anything behind Wakamatsu's and Susa's large bodies. He hisses as a soft tongue, smaller than Wakamatsu's, moves along his inner thigh.

Kagami twitches and hears a "sorry!" from that area. Right, Sakurai.

They're all increasing the pace; Kagami's drooling and moaning incoherencies; he's not quite sure what he wants to say. Susa licks his fingers and then fists Kagami's dick, and Kagami bucks his hips and clamps his lips on Imayoshi's finger. Sakurai's tongue is drawing upward and Kagami thrusts his hips again; Sakurai's tongue slips down to Kagami's hole and Kagami whines. Imayoshi takes his fingers out of Kagami's mouth. A moment later, he slides his cock between Kagami's lips and Kagami begins to suck. Susa's fingers and Wakamatsu's and Sakurai's tongues are working him faster and harder and he doesn't know how much longer he can last. Imayoshi's hand works its way through his hair, and he's overwhelmed. Tears are leaking from his closed eyes and drool from his mouth and he jerks his body, trying to achieve the most pleasure. Imayoshi comes into his mouth and he swallows, feeling Imayoshi's cock continuing to pulse against his mouth and the mouths and hands on the rest of his body. Finally, he climaxes, screaming something raw and wild that rips up his throat.

He opens his eyes and his four companions are cleaning themselves up.

"You did well," says Susa.

* * *

267\. Candy Cane (Murasakibara Atsushi/Araki Masako)

She always decorates her tree with candy canes, and this year she's not going to break tradition. The problem is that she somehow didn't use common sense and she forgot about him, didn't think he'd eat them before she got the chance to put them on the tree. She puts them away in the cupboard and then goes to get some water and she comes back and he's eaten half of them already; the peppermint must have coated his teeth like a sugary retainer by now or something.

"Oh, Masako-chin, thanks for the candy," he says, chomping down on another piece.

"Atsushi," she says. "Are you serious?"

Ten minutes of chasing him with the shinai later, she's got him cowering on the couch.

"I'm sorry, Masako-chin, I didn't know they were for the tree."

"What the hell did you do with your candy canes growing up?"

"Well," he says, frowning. "We ate them."

She lowers her shinai. He really is too much, too naïve and adorable even now. But being lost in thought has given him an opening, and he brings an arm around her waist and squeezes her ass. She looks up and he's smirking.

"Masako-chin looks cute right now."

"Well, you sure as hell don't," she growls. He knows he's already won, though, and leans in for a minty kiss.

* * *

268\. Body Switch (Akashi Seijuurou/Izuki Shun)

It's a little disconcerting to see their captain in his boyfriend's body, directing them, while their captain's body is occupied by his perplexed boyfriend. It's even weirder to see Akashi's body make that expression that Izuki makes when he's trying to think of a joke.

"Eye am the most powerful!" he says, trying ankle break on a random freshman.

"Shun, stop that and sit down," says Akashi in Izuki's body.

"But it's fun," he whines. Seeing their captain whine like that is not a pretty sight.

"I'm out," says Nebuya. "I can't take any more of this shit."

Mayuzumi silently follows. Akashi doesn't try to stop them; he's clearly had enough as well.

"I still don't see why I had to come to Kyoto and you didn't go back to Tokyo," says Izuki. "I'm going to miss school and Coach will kill me."

"I explained everything to Riko on the phone," says Akashi. "I need to be physically present in every class. My academic record cannot be compromised."

Izuki rolls his eyes.

"Or do you not want to spend time together?" Akashi says, looking into the heterochromatic eyes.

"Not like this," says Izuki.

Akashi places his hand on Izuki's knee. Izuki frowns, but then closes his (Akashi's) eyes. The frown becomes a smile. "Your imagination is good, Shun."

"Hmm."

* * *

269\. Head Over Heels (Haizaki Shougo/Takao Kazunari)

Kazunari has that way of looking up at him, cocking his head to one sight and trying to look stupid and it reminds him too much of Ryouta; everything that damn guy does reminds him of Ryouta—which is weird, because isn't Ryouta the copycat? He's said that name too many times. It's in the back of his throat, burning acid, he's choking again. Kazunari's barbed words hurt him; his sweet gaze turns sharp and sour all of a sudden and he hits back harder than Haizaki hits him. The way he manages to diffuse the damage away from him, remain pristine and clean, that's like Ryouta, too.

But Kazunari doesn't stay away, doesn't look down on Shougo in the same way. He's got his own pride in his own things, but he's got ugliness inside his soul that he doesn't cover in glitter and will away. He'll acknowledge its presence, greet it like an old friend when it rises to the surface even as he balks at it taking over him, seeping into his small body. He doesn't struggle against Shougo's arms in the same way, lets Shougo have him because he wants Shougo to have him. He doesn't need to win, but he wins anyway by conceding defeat; the way he slumps into Shougo's chest drives Shougo absolutely wild. It's damn unfair, it really is.

* * *

270\. Cuddle (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

Aomine swings his legs around on the couch so that they come to rest on top of Midorima's and the rest of their lengths are spread out, with barely enough room to spare at the end of the couch. He leans back against Midorima's chest, the steadiness of Midorima's breathing a comfort. Midorima looks away from his science journal long enough to kiss Aomine on the forehead and then goes back to reading about neurons or whatever the hell it is. Even from that one gesture, his face is pink. He's never going to stop being embarrassed by this kind of thing, never going to be completely comfortable with it, but it's kind of refreshing (not that Aomine will ever tell Midorima that, despite the likelihood of a sputtering, incoherent reaction from Midorima; it's just not worth it). Midorima fails once again at being nonchalant and inching his arm down Aomine's back, and his hand comes to rest on Aomine's waist. Aomine snuggles up against Midorima's chest; he's tired. He might as well fall asleep like this; Midorima's going to be up reading for a while and he makes a comfortable pillow.

"Don't fall asleep," says Midorima.

Aomine smiles and closes his eyes.

* * *

271\. Ninja (Takao Kazunari/Kuroko Tetsuya)

Perhaps he ought to humor Takao this one time when Takao asks him to help him become a ninja—it's a terrible thought, but Kuroko has already voiced it and Takao is eagerly grabbing his hands and nodding and he looks quite cute and Kuroko hates to disappoint him even though he has no idea what the hell he's doing. As long as he acts like he does, though, Takao will never be able to tell the difference.

"You have to step very lightly," says Kuroko. "Walk on your tiptoes if that helps. You should exaggerate at first, but when you get used to it this will all seem natural."

The serious look on Takao's face is in high contrast to the manner in which he's walking, slowly with his toes first and then lowering his feet to the ground. "Like this, Tecchan?"

"You should keep your head down. Stoop your shoulders."

Takao complies, hunching over awkwardly and almost tripping over his own feet a few times.

"Just keep practicing," says Kuroko. "You'll get the hang of it."

Two blocks later, Takao dissolves into laughter and Kuroko's mouth is twitching.

"You're too mean, Tecchan," says Takao.

"You seemed to be having fun," says Kuroko.

Takao leans in for a sudden kiss, and Kuroko has to indulge him in that.

* * *

272\. Failure to Comply (Imayoshi Shouichi/Sakurai Ryou/Hanamiya Makoto)

"You need to be more careful," says Hanamiya. "You're very lucky that this person did nothing, otherwise…you'd be in even bigger trouble."

He smiles, teeth glinting in the dim light.

"I'm sorry," Sakurai says, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I didn't mean—that is, I was trying to be…"

"Well, it don't make a difference what you meant," says Imayoshi. "You were caught anyway. Someone saw you when we explicitly said that the only ones allowed to see you like that are us. So, Hanamiya, what do you think?"

Hanamiya licks his lips. Sakurai flinches. "Let's tie him up."

Sakurai gulps. Imayoshi shoves a gag in his mouth and fastens it; Sakurai winces again and tries to sputter. Hanamiya seizes his wrists and binds them behind his back, and then ties his ankles tightly together. Sakurai feels himself growing hard and tries to cover himself. Imayoshi and Hanamiya both laugh.

"Kinda exposed, isn't he?" says Imayoshi.

Hanamiya flicks one of Sakurai's nipples and he spasms. Then, Hanamiya effortlessly picks up Sakurai and flips him over on his back. Sakurai is trembling in fear, waiting, waiting…but nothing happens. He slumps, and in that moment someone (it feels like Imayoshi) slides a finger inside of him.

"He's pretty loose already," says Imayoshi, and then he shoves three more fingers inside. Sakurai feels like he's going to break; he's not loose at all right now. He tries to clench his teeth and ends up only able to clench his shoulders and hold his breath while Imyoshi works him. He lets out the air in his lungs slowly and unconsciously like a basketball with a tack stuck in it, and the edge is starting to come off the pain when Imayoshi takes out his fingers and shoves in his cock without lube. Sakurai's whole body tightens up; he tries to hug his knees to his chest but Hanmiya is sitting on top of his feet, preventing them from going anywhere. He digs his nails into his palms as Imayoshi slowly buries himself deeper inside of Sakurai.

"How does it feel?" asks Hanamiya.

"Pretty tight," says Imayoshi. "You'll get a turn; don't worry."

"I wasn't worried," says Hanamiya.

Imayoshi thrusts and Sakurai convulses with the mix of pain and pleasure each time. It's still mostly pain by the time Imayoshi finishes, coming inside and then moving to the side to give Hanamiya a turn. Hanamiya's rhythm is steadier; he cares more about his own pleasure than Sakurai's pain (though the two are not mutually exclusive by any means) and comes quicker. They flip Sakurai back over, exposing his still-hard and leaking cock.

"Well, I guess he's served his punishment, eh, Hanamiya?"

"Yeah, finish him," says Hanamiya.

Imayoshi's fingers on his cock are a blessed relief and he climaxes after three firm strokes of Imayoshi's palm. Imayoshi removes the gag and the bindings, and hugs Sakurai to his chest.

"I hope you've learned your lesson, Ryou," he whispers into Sakurai's ear.

Sakurai's throat is too dry for words to form. As he drifts off, Hanamiya pulls the covers over the three of them and spoons him from behind. Sakurai smiles.

* * *

273\. Absolute Feeling (Imayoshi Shouichi/Akashi Seijuurou)

Imayoshi had seen Akashi once before they were both in high school, when he'd gone back to his old middle school to see them take on Teikou the year after he'd graduated. That guy with the bangs and that guy with the lip thing on Teikou were good; Imayoshi had remembered them. But they were nothing compared to Teikou's second-year point guard with the red hair and eyes and stoic expression.

The next time he'd met Akashi, Akashi had been pompous and demanding and one of his eyes had changed color. People change with time but this much in a few years is hardly ordinary (but then again, Imayoshi supposes that Akashi himself isn't exactly ordinary). He's not polite and he doesn't care; he is truly absolute, domineering and forcing everything to bend to his will. Imayoshi doesn't like that very much. Force is boring, even as it is addicting. Bending and cajoling and shifting foundations and what lies underneath, that's interesting, that kind of power. But to each his own. It's not as if Akashi's not still cute and it's not as if he doesn't want Akashi (it's not as if Akashi doesn't want him).

When Akashi is sighing in his arms, moaning like a cat in heat, sweat plastering his short bangs to his forehead, he suddenly clamps his mouth shut and stiffens. Imayoshi can't see very well without his glasses, but it looks as if his eyes are widening and his face is flushing redder and the shameless, absolute emperor is feeling a little shame at this lewdness. It's the kind of thing Imayoshi would have expected from the Akashi who was still a scrawny, stoic kid—and maybe those eyes do see all and he's just giving Imayoshi what he wants, but Akashi wouldn't compromise his pride for that. A moment later, he bites into Imayoshi's shoulder and Imayoshi rolls his hips again and it's back to how it was, but when Akashi dozes off later in one of Imayoshi's old shirts, it's easy to again imagine that other Akashi. But Imayoshi doesn't want that other Akashi to come out for anyone else. He's precious, all for him. If that's not the case now, it will be soon. Imayoshi can't wait for the thrill of shaking up Akashi's foundations.

* * *

274\. Steal Your Heart (Mayuzumi Chihiro/Mibuchi Reo)

When Reo's shoulders slumped, when his resolve failed—that was when Chihiro had placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled, when his flat eyes had softened, and all of Reo's hopes that he had sworn to abandon (this time for sure) came rushing back to him. Chihiro had stood on his tiptoes and kissed Reo's mouth, wrapped his arms around Reo's neck, and Reo had almost cried. He pinched himself all night thinking this had been a beautiful dream, but at morning practice it was the same.

And still, now, Chihiro has held on and opened up, and Reo doesn't know why, doesn't want to ask because it will break the spell and this is still so magical and perfect. With every touch, Chihiro grabs more of Reo's heart. He's long since had Reo's body; Reo told him after they did it that he was the first and he'd said he was glad, gently combing his fingers through Reo's hair. And with each passing day Chihiro seems more comfortable and less mysterious and more like he is Reo's at least a fraction of the amount that Reo is his. And that small fraction is enough for Reo to cling to and treasure.

* * *

275\. Electric Blanket (Liu Wei/fem!Fukui Kensuke)

It's so unfair. "I'm how much older than you and how many centimeters shorter?"

His arm tightens around her waist, pulling her closer on his lap so her head is against his chest. "Eight months and three days, and twenty-seven centimeters, Senpai."

"I wasn't asking you," she mutters. "How do you know my birthday, anyway?"

"You said that kouhai should remember their seniors' birthdays," says Liu. "You said you might quiz us on them."

Damn it, he's right. And it's definitely not cute that he still remembers, nope, not at all. She crosses her arms over her chest. His forearm is at least one and a half times as thick as hers. She's tall for a girl, taller than the average man, even, but he always makes her feel tiny and fragile. It's a bit of an unpleasant sensation—do normal girls get used to this? Is this why they like having huge boyfriends? What's there to like? He leans over, bending his neck over her head and kisses her on the nose. She scowls harder.

Being in his arms is actually…well, it's warm, which would totally suck if they lived someplace warm. But they're in Akita, in this shitty dorm with unreliable radiators, and even though he's skinny his flesh is warm like he's an electric blanket in the shape of a man. Not that Fukui likes electric blankets or anything.

* * *

276\. Toss (Nebuya Eikichi/Hayama Kotarou)

"Ei-chan! Ei-chan!" Kotarou clutches onto Eikichi's arm again. His grip is so tight that Eikichi is sure he's going to mess with his muscles.

"Seriously, Kotarou, stop that," says Eikichi. "I'll throw you across the room."

Kotarou ignores him (he does that a lot). "We should skip practice today," says Kotarou. "We haven't done it in the janitor's closet in a while."

While that does sound very appealing, Kotarou is still tugging on his arm. Eikichi sighs, picks him up, and flings him into the air. It's a damn good thing they're outside; otherwise he probably would have hit the ceiling. Kotarou comes crashing down onto the lawn and picks himself up almost immediately. Eikichi's kind of regretting it; he hates that sad-kitten look that Kotarou gets when he wants something and is trying to guilt-trip Eikichi, but instead of putting that on Kotarou smiles.

"That was so fun, Ei-chan! Do it again; do it again!" Kotarou beams up at him, but doesn't clutch his arm.

He's really too goddamn cute for his own good. Eikichi kisses him until the outline of that smile is imprinted on his own face, where it remains for the duration of afternoon classes (and it comes back shortly after due to an escapade in the aforementioned janitor's closet).

* * *

277\. Same Feather (Takao Kazunari/fem!Izuki Shun)

He's been keeping tabs on her because of her glasses; she's pretty and smart and funny which are all well and good on their own but she has glasses. He supposes he's a bit of a fetishist, but it's nothing like sniffing girls' panties or creeping on adolescents. He just gets turned on by women who wear glasses, that's all. What he didn't expect to find when peering over the cubicle wall was a fetish magazine sticking out from under a file folder.

(-)

She's surprisingly open about her men-wearing-skirts fetish; she trusts him automatically. Whether that's indicative of her naiveté or his trustworthiness or something else entirely he has no idea, but that's irrelevant. He offers to return that by trusting her with his own fetish and admitting that she drives him wild.

(-)

They have sex several times; she leaves her glasses on and he wears her skirt (it fits surprisingly well on his narrow hips). It's pleasurable for both of them; they have to limit it to once every week or two because they tire themselves out so much. He wonders, often, fleetingly, if this is more than lust and pursuit of his odd attraction, if this is something more. Is there something about Izuki's bad puns and cheery smile that affect him? Is that why his heart is beating faster, not because it's pumping more blood to his cock? What about her? Does she only love him for his looks, the way he looks parading around in her lingerie and miniskirts? Is he more than just a pair of legs to her?

She settles the matter once and for all. "Kazunari, I love you," she says, They're in bed in her apartment; she's not wearing glasses and he's not wearing a skirt.

He looks at her bare face and the answer is waiting for him. "I love you, too," he says.

She fits in his arms perfectly, and he would love her even if her eyes were sharp; this he knows for certain.

* * *

278\. What Can You Do (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Izuki Shun)

She can't be in love with him; it makes no sense. He's an adversary, a domineering snob who's leaps and bounds better eat basketball than she'll ever be. She can admire him without falling in love, can't she? Apparently not, because all she's thinking about is the way those hands would feel touching her, or the way his skin looks underneath his uniform. She gets light-headed just thinking about him. But, no, she's probably just intimidated by him and curious and a hormonal teenager. It doesn't matter. She just won't do anything and the feelings will subside.

They don't get a chance, to, though, because he kisses her and those hands are touching her skin and it's exactly as she'd imagined it and so maybe she's in love with him a little bit.

* * *

279\. I'm Not Lying (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

He's a good liar; words slip through his brain and get warped before they reach his throat and he speaks them again and again until he believes them and they might as well be the truth but for the dead, flat tone he uses.

"I love you," he says, kissing her hand and looking up for her reaction.

She purses her lips. This is a move to charm her, to make her grin and giggle but they've long since passed that phase of their relationship. "You're lying."

"No, I'm not," he says, with as much sincerity as he can muster.

She drops the matter, but she feels the lies again and again with every touch of his lips to her skin.

It's only with the distance of the years that she can see that perhaps (probably) he was telling the truth; he did love her. Did it matter if he didn't if he acted like it? Did it matter what his heart said if he was faithful and attentive? Does it still matter? What is love? What is truth? She used to think she had all the answers to the nonexistent questions, but now she's not so sure.

* * *

280\. New Year (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

Aomine rolls his eyes. "Only dorks make New Year's resolutions."

Midorima pouts his lips. "Well, I resolve to learn to play that concerto, to get better grades, and to make all of my shots."

Aomine snorts. "That's boring. Besides, you do that shit already, why do you have to write it down in a list or something?"

"That's not the point," says Midorima. "There must be something you want to do this year."

"You," says Aomine. "You're an annoying bastard but you're still pretty hot."

Midorima's cheeks flush red. "That's not the kind of thing I meant."

"It's not my fault you weren't specific," says Aomine. "But, if you insist."

He takes Midorima's hand. "I want to kiss this." He places his hand on Midorima's shoulder. "And this." His chest. "And this." His sternum. "And this." His neck. "And this." His cheek. "And this." His ear. "And this."

Midorima cuts him off with a searing kiss on the mouth. Aomine eagerly reciprocates, anticipating the movements of Midorima's tongue. When they break, he smirks.

"A little impatient, aren't we?"

Midorima shrugs. He doesn't make another comment about inappropriate resolutions, though.

* * *

281\. Most Beautiful (Harasawa Katsunori/Araki Masako)

He attends every women's national team game that he can, just to see her play. There are basketball stars, immortals, hall of famers—and then there's her, and to him she is on a level above the rest due to the sheer experience of watching her. She drives ferociously into the circle of opponents and somehow her arms find the smallest opening and push the ball through for a layup, or she has them quadruple-teaming her and she somehow passes to a perfectly open shooter who sinks the easy jump shot. She outmuscles everyone for a rebound, and her arms come up so fast to block shots that they might as well teleport from her sides. She's strong; she's amazing; she's beautiful. That beauty is nowhere more apparent than the free throw line, when they foul her because they're out of options. Her hair forms a halo around her face, sweaty, some of it sticking in her eyes, but she bounces the ball and then takes a shot and the ball flies in a perfect arc and swishes through the hoop almost every time, no matter how much the crowd screams at her.

Sometimes she will scan the crowd for his face and he always smiles at her and gives her a thumbs up. He knows he's the weird one, but she doesn't seem to mind that. She insults him, but it's less than she does with everyone, a bit softer (he likes her edges, too, though). Sometimes she lets him hold her small, rough hand in his and these are the same hands that let the ball spring out and through the air with a perfect spin; these are the same hands that intercepted an errant pass; these are the same hands that have stolen his heart in the same way they have stolen many basketballs.

* * *

282\. Pity (Okamura Kenichi/Mibuchi Reo)

Mibuchi never thought he'd come face to face with someone who was more of a gorilla than Nebuya, but Yosen's captain and power forward somehow just is. His arms are long and his body is hairy and muscular and his face and beard are eerily reminiscent of a primate. Personality-wise, he's totally sensitive, though, and he's always whining about his romantic troubles. Mibuchi knows a thing or two about makeovers, but one of those might actually make Okamura look worse, so what he sees is what he's got. It's not terrible; he's actually quite manly-looking. Those primal urges ought to be helpful in bed, at least.

Convincing Okamura to sleep with him is as easy as half a bottle of scotch and some cajoling, although it gets awkward when it's obvious Okamura's never done this before and has no idea what he's doing. Mibuchi's mixture of pity and curiosity fades to pure lust, though, once Okamura really gets going. The grunts and moans he makes are very nice, even as Mibuchi licks his neck and fondles his ass—he's muscle on top of muscle; he must be the strongest guy Mibuchi's ever seen. He knows he's strong, but he doesn't want to use too much of it, doesn't want to be too rough with Mibuchi, isn't careless with it. His calloused hands feel quite wonderful stroking Mibuchi's back and his mouth is powerful even if he's sloppy with his tongue.

He gets the hang of it soon enough, pounding into Mibuchi with abandon and it feels absolutely wonderful. Afterward, he helps Mibuchi clean up and asks him numerous times if everything is okay. Falling asleep in Okamura's arms is wonderful; his body is firm and strong and it feels perfect. The next problem Mibuchi will have to deal with is how to keep Okamura all to himself, but he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it. For now, he'll enjoy kissing Okamura on the cheek and watching him fail to comprehend the situation.

* * *

283\. Is it okay to be Lost? (Akashi Seijuurou/Midorima Shintarou)

Is it okay to be lost? Midorima always feels lost, directionless, drowning around Akashi, like he doesn't know quite what to do, like the ground beneath his feet might suddenly crumble away and he might end up in free fall. But free fall is not necessarily a bad thing, as Midorima discovers under Akashi's hands. He doesn't know where all of this came from or where all of these feeling will go, but it's okay to be lost right now because Akashi will take control and stabilize things—but only if he wants to. And right now this shaky instability, this wilderness, is more thrilling than it is frightening, so Midorima will let go and have faith. He's learning to do that again.

* * *

284\. Scattered Kisses (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

He'd like to spend all his time scattering kisses into her soft hair. She smells like floral shampoo, sweet but not overpowering, and she weaves her fingers into his when he does that and gives him a soft smile. Sometimes he can get away with it in the morning before she's awake, when her hair fans out onto the pillow and the smile that graces her lips is not carefully constructed. He'd love to whisper her name into her ear all the time, too, see the way it makes her turn her head or blush and whisper his name back as if she's in awe. And then, once he has her full attention again, he kisses her hair again and her grip on his hands tightens.

She puts her head in his lap and falls asleep, magazine slipping down from her hand onto the floor, breathing deeply and evenly. He leans down and kisses her forehead, and she sighs in her sleep. Moments like these are so rare, what with all they have to do and take care of, and perhaps that's why he treasures them so much.

* * *

285\. Loss of Self-Control (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)

He finds he loses all self-control in bed with her, shamelessly pounds into her, registers her nails digging into his back and her hips meeting his, the way she leans into his mouth as he bites and sucks her neck and shoulders, marking her as his. She throws her head back and her long, pale neck drives him wild; he can't get enough of the dips and swells of her breasts and waist, the firmness of her arms and abdomen and inner thighs. She's strong in body as well as in personality but he overpowers her here every time, takes control of the situation and lets it fly. She enjoys it, moaning and crying his name over and over again, in pain and ecstasy and pure sensation. After they're done, she lets him spoon her despite their considerable height difference. But she's the perfect size for him to push his face through her soft hair and nuzzle and kiss the back of her neck, and even though he can't see her face he can tell she's smiling.

* * *

286\. Held (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

Shintarou sleeps soundly when Daiki spoons him, laces their fingers together, buries his face in Shintarou's hair. Daiki wants to press him closer because he's so precious and so breakable even though he puts up a nearly impenetrable façade. Buried not-so-deep beneath his cynical self-interest is pure idealism and a loving heart, and Daiki's seen them broken before, has uncovered them and tried his best to help mend them. He is skillful and proud and strong, but not unbreakable. And he has done so much for Daiki that offering protection, providing protection, might never be enough.

God, he sounds corny; he's lucky Satsuki hasn't inserted a recording device into his brain (shit, maybe she has) and gotten all of this down.

"This is all your fault," he grumbles into the back of Shintarou's neck, but he pulls him closer still.

(-)

Shintarou wakes before the alarm sometimes, enjoys the dim light coming in through the curtain and Daiki's arms holding the two of them together. Even though Shintarou's a few centimeters taller, Daiki is the stronger of the two and he insists on being the big spoon, which Shintarou argues with sometimes but always accepts in the end. He has to; Daiki's arms are perfect. They're warm and they're constant and they're safe. The minute they enfold him (and Shintarou will never admit this to anyone) he sinks deeper, powerless to Daiki's whims. Sometimes, Daiki's just holding him to cop a feel and sometimes he's holding him because he's tired and sometimes Shintarou doesn't know the reason but it doesn't matter. Before Daiki, he was afraid and hurt, and it's every dumb romantic drama cliché rolled into one but Daiki showed an incredible degree of patience with him, let him figure out how to love him, and his arms have become an automatic tranquilizer. He holds Shintarou tightly, like he's never going to let him go, like he can't bear to think about it sometimes, and Shintarou would not be able to bear their separation, either.

* * *

287\. Snow Angel (Moriyama Yoshitaka/Izuki Shun, Mayuzumi Chihiro/Takao Kazunari)

Izuki flops on top of Moriyama, who has been making a snow angel. "Come on, let's do it."

"Not in the snow," says Moriyama, wrinkling his nose. "It's wet and disgusting."

"Aww, you're snow fun," says Izuki. He puffs out his cheeks and grinds his hips against Moriyama's.

Moriyama yelps and tries to sit up, but Izuki's hands are holding him down.

Mayuzumi looks frantically at Takao. Takao shrugs. There's nothing they can do right now except be quiet up in the tree and not fall out, and hope Izuki doesn't see them and that they get up and leave soon.

Izuki grinds his hips into Moriyama's again, and Moriyama rolls over, pinning Izuki down to the snow. Izuki shoves at him, but then Moriyama shoves his tongue down Izuki's throat. Their sloppy, snowy make-out session makes something stir uncomfortably inside Takao, especially with the glimpses he's getting of Izuki's pale skin between the waistband of his jeans and the bottom of his sweatshirt. He bites the inside of his lip. Now Moriyama's undoing both of their jeans and quite obviously fingering Izuki and Takao's lip is raw and his own pants are feeling way too tight. He's afraid to even register Mayuzumi's presence, but of course he can't because of the way he sees things, and his face is burning red. Mayuzumi squeezes his forearm but that only makes it worse, the way his skin feels through layers of shirt and sweater and coat and fingers. They're moving their hips together, crying out shamelessly. Don't they know this is a public park? They're damn lucky Mayuzumi and Takao are the only ones who can see them right now. Finally, they finish, and lie there giggling for a while until they bundle back up.

"You're right, I got wet," says Izuki. "But you felt snow good inside me, Moriyama-san."

Mayuzumi rolls his eyes. Moriyama stuffs snow down Izuki's back as they walk away. Finally, they're at a safe distance and Takao untangles his scarf from the pine needles.

Mayuzumi jumps down and lands so lightly that his feet barely make an impact in the snow. Takao jumps down and lands on his ass, but his scarf is intact. Mayuzumi helps haul him to his feet, holds him a bit longer and closer than necessary.

"No," says Takao.

"You're right," says Mayuzumi. "Let's go home and take a hot bath."

Takao grins and kisses him on the cheek, wrapping the scarf around both of their necks.

* * *

288\. Perverted (fem!Mibuchi Reo/Akashi Seijuurou)

Mibuchi takes a gulp of water. Practice has been even harder than usual today, although it's just about over. They have to talk about strategy for a few minutes, but that won't be as physically exhausting as the drills. Mibuchi wipes the sweat off of her face, and then jumps, almost spilling her water, and turns around.

"Sei-chan, what did you just do?" she cries, face rapidly turning a hundred different shades of magenta.

He smirks at her. "You looked cute. I wanted to touch you."

"You're such a pervert. I can't believe it; my Sei-chan…it's all your fault, Kotarou."

"What's all my fault?" says Hayama.

"Sei-chan just grabbed my ass!"

Hayama shoots him a thumbs up. "I really had nothing to do with it, though."

"You suck! Both of you!"

Akashi lightly touches her arm. "I'm sorry, Reo. I didn't know it would upset you like this."

"We're in public, Sei-chan."

"I know," he says, raising her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles. "Forgive me?"

"You're unfair," she grumbles.

* * *

289\. Hot & Dangerous (Mayuzumi Chihiro/Takao Kazunari)

Takao is dangerous; he can see Mayuzumi. It's not only that, of course, but he sees and notices, wills himself to notice everything, to be attuned to the world and all of its movement. Mayuzumi feels naked and self-conscious around him, like he can't just be a quiet observer anymore, like he is the observed, under a microscope.

It gets better in small increments; Takao makes it better because no matter how hard he tries Mayuzumi can't hide his feelings any more than he can hide his presence. (How can Takao see so many unseen things?) He takes Mayuzumi's hand but looks away, leans on his shoulder and closes his eyes, and even though they're more connected Mayuzumi feels less scrutinized. Maybe he's just getting used to Takao's constant, cheery presence (although he will never get used to Takao reading everything over his shoulder).

He can really appreciate Takao's sexiness, the embraces in a dark corner, the way Takao uses Mayuzumi's lack of presence to shield himself, the way he tries and fails to mimic it, the way Takao wears his confidence at being noticed—he makes it seem glamorous and desirable. He is desirable, dexterous fingers and sharp teeth and strong shoulders and the things he says. He's smart, and that might be the sexiest thing about him.

And in the end, it's not hard for Mayuzumi to yield to kiss kisses and respond to his touches. It seems almost natural, this desire.

* * *

290\. Seduction (Kise Ryouta/Hanamiya Makoto)

He enters the room in a cloud of cologne and sparkles and he probably has fucking dancing unicorns or some shit like that somewhere; he's like a fairy tale prince. He smiles and flutters his long eyelashes and expects the world to drop everything for him, which it does more often than not. The prettiest ones are always the most fragile and breakable, but they're always placed on the highest shelf and Hanamiya's not all that tall. But when he can make them fall, they fall harder and shatter into more pieces, so perhaps it's worth it.

But that's not it at all. He's not just another prodigy to be broken; Hanamiya wants to possess his beauty, wants to see it up close, every perfect pore on that flawless face and every strand of well-kept hair. He wants to feel that unblemished skin on his own. It's probably very warm.

Kise doesn't respect him the way he respects his middle school teammates, the way he respects that idiot Kagami. Not that Hanamiya wants a stupid nickname or anything—and stupid is as stupid does. And Kise is an idiot, anyway.

But sometimes he's not. Sometimes he catches Hanamiya looking at him and smirks and Hanamiya feels a terrible sense of dread deep within himself, because Kise knows; he's seen looks like that many times before.

It all comes to a head when Kise grabs Hanamiya's chin and forces their lips together; he's surprisingly rough, and when Hanamiya scratches and bites, Kise scratches and bites back ten times as hard. He moans like a porn star, always on the stage even in private, but Hanamiya very much enjoys this little show. So what if the marks on his skin are rather obvious? It's not like anyone else can say they've fucked a hot supermodel.

* * *

291\. Unintentional Cuteness (Murasakibara Atsushi/fem!Midorima Shintarou)

He chomps on the corn snack, crumbs falling to the ground and sticking to his face. Midorima sighs. "Murasakibara, don't be so messy."

He blinks, discarding the wrapper in the trash can. There are crumbs on the corner of his lip. He looks like a confused small child, almost—no, it's not cute. He's fourteen; he should have outgrown this already.

"You have crumbs on your face," she says.

He wipes a hand across, which only smudges the greasy crumbs. She licks her thumb and places it on his face, brushing off the small pieces. His face is soft and he looks at her with those sleepy eyes and smiles. Midorima feels her face grow hotter, and she quickly finishes. "There. All clean."

For a fleeting second, he almost looks disappointed that she's done.

"Thanks, Mido-chin," he says. His childish tone of voice, full of hope for something (she's not sure what) tugs at something in her stomach.

"You're welcome. Just be more careful next time," she says.

He moves closer to her on the cafeteria bench. She knows she's blushing again. Why? This doesn't make any sense. She fumbles with her hand and pushes up her glasses. Maybe if they're closer to his eyes, he won't look as cute (because he definitely isn't. He's just a bothersome, overgrown child; that's all).


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains material published 12/31/13-1/17/14, written in November/December 2013

292\. Redesign (Momoi Satsuki/Araki Masako)

Masako calls herself a pragmatist with more than a hint of pride in her voice. She eliminates the unnecessary distractions, always has, in order to achieve her goals—to win the fight, to save up enough money for a new bike, to ace the college entrance exams, to make herself stronger. She's never put much thought to decorating the small apartment she's lived in for years. Her desk at work probably has more of a personal touch, old photos of some of her teams, paperweights she's received as gifts from colleagues and students, newspaper clippings. She's got nice curtains that her former underlings made for her, and when the walls start to peel she slaps a new coat of paint on. Her furniture is plain but durable, but she really has no need for rugs on the floor or pictures on the wall. It's not like she spends all that much time there, anyway.

All that changes when Satsuki moves in. It's gradual, the changes that sneak in one by one (Masako notices them all, of course) but she actually starts looking forward to what Satsuki's going to do next. Will there be another poster of a famous painting on the wall? More flowers in a pretty vase on the table? A new tablecloth? A slipcover on the couch?

Even when she gets back before Satsuki, it's alright now, because it feels like a home.

* * *

293\. Perception (Okamura Kenichi/Fukui Kensuke)

Time passes; perceptions change. Fukui admits without shame that he first saw Okamura as nothing but a gorilla basketball player. Okamura hesitates to say that he just saw Fukui as small and loud.

"But, y'see, none of that matters," Fukui says. It's hard for Okamura to look down in shame because Fukui's so much smaller than him—he's clearly not hurt, but it hurts to say these words even if they're no longer true.

Fukui disregards his inadequacies with a flick of a hand or an eye roll, confides in Okamura that he's equally inexperienced and it doesn't matter because they can just try different things and see what works. And Okamura's willing to take this leap of faith because he did it for basketball, and his clumsiness somehow became a nonissue and his ridiculously long arms became useful for grabbing and blocking and dunking—and now his hands are useful around Fukui's hips and his awkwardly large nose is that way because there's more of it for Fukui to kiss and it's really not anything he should worry about.

* * *

294\. Antithesis (Kimura Shinsuke/Mibuchi Reo)

Kimura's built differently than Mibuchi is, wired differently, too; his muscles are bulkier and his bones seem thicker and he lapses into walking pigeon-toed sometimes (but even when he does he carries himself with a certain kind of natural grace that's impossible for Mibuchi to duplicate) and he thinks straightforwardly but not impulsively. Mibuchi is leaner; his limbs are longer even though he's about the same height as Kimura and he thinks about his movements all the time, is constantly overly self-aware, and he thinks around the issues and laces his words with multiple meanings and works his way around problems rather than just attacking them head-on.

Mibuchi likes to think they complement one another, that they bring out in each other the qualities that others fail to see, have consciously worked at learning the way the other thinks and moves so that they anticipate things almost instantly, Kimura popping a grape into Mibuchi's mouth and Mibuchi's arms encircling Kimura's waist and their lips meeting at the perfect angle.

* * *

295\. Beauty (Liu Wei/Fukui Kensuke)

The sharpness of the focus of his eyes, his accurate passes coming in hard enough to sting against Liu's hands, the way he looks in a basketball uniform, the curve of his scowl and the crease in his brow—it's not enough to say that these things make Fukui beautiful (but they do). He's a force, his hair bright like a star—not blinding like a sun but steady and unwavering against the blankness of the sky. He's confusing, too, more of a tornado than a straight wind tunnel, messing with your mind rather than just knocking you down with pure power. Liu can't figure him out (is it cliché to say that the only thing he can say for sure is that he's never known anyone like Fukui before? Does it matter if it's true?) but maybe he doesn't want to. There is a unique beauty in this kind of confusion. Thinking too much trivializes it, trivializes Fukui. He's small, but there's nothing trivial about the hunger in his kisses and the tightness of his hands in Liu's hair and his firm legs wrapped around Liu's waist.

* * *

296\. Tangerine (Ootsubo Taisuke/Aida Riko)

Taisuke works his thumb under the tangerine skin, gently separating it from the soft fruit. He moves his thumb in circles, gently creating a long spiral peel.

He breaks the fruit in half and then takes one slice and slides it into Riko's mouth. She smiles around his finger and sucks on them before he can take them out, and his heart thumps awkwardly. She looks up from her seat next to him, head leaning against his upper arm (he always forgets how much smaller than him she is). Her knitting needles rest for a moment; she swallows.

She's working on a pair of red and orange striped socks with the yarn they'd picked out together at the craft store last weekend, and she'd only started this one a few hours ago and she's already almost done. It's amazing how fast her small hands work, especially compared to his—he can work on a scarf for an entire morning and only get a few rows done. She makes fewer mistakes and her hands move in a blur. He's not jealous per se; it's more like he's in awe of her skills.

"Stop staring and eat your tangerine," she says, cheeks flushing lightly.

He does as he's told, but not before he sneaks another slice into her mouth and traces his sticky fingers over her cheek.

* * *

297\. Chills (Fukuda Hiroshi/Furihata Kouki, Kawahara Kouichi)

He can't quite pinpoint when exactly it starts, only that he becomes very suddenly aware of the way Furihata is stuttering and blushing like he's in the presence of a god and the way Fukuda is coughing and averting his eyes and rubbing his neck. Kawahara feels as if he's intruding on something intimate and fragile, that if he reminds them of his presence something precious will shatter and that it's not really his place. He lags behind them, takes out his phone and messes with it for a few seconds before looking up again. They're walking slowly, but they're half a block ahead of him and haven't looked back. His chest hurts.

"Stupid," he mutters to himself. "It's not about you."

There's a chill in the air that wasn't there before.

* * *

298\. Way Too Cold (Aomine Daiki/Wakamatsu Kousuke)

Wakamatsu sleeps on his stomach, one arm thrown over Aomine's side and the other dangling off of the bed with his knuckles scraping the floor. His head is turned to the side and even in his sleep he frowns, angry at something or other. Aomine snuggles closer under the covers, tucking his feet up a little bit and softly kicking at Wakamatsu's bare shins. Wakamatsu jerks awake and almost falls out of bed.

"The fuck did you do that for?"

"Did it hurt? Aww," says Aomine, mock-pouting.

"Your foot is like an ice cube, asshole."

Aomine slides his foot up Wakamatsu's thigh.

"Oi!" Wakamatsu shoves Aomine in the chest and then grabs the covers, attempting to wrap himself in some sort of blanket cocoon.

Aomine snatches the covers back and then pulls Wakamatsu closer under them, resting his head on Wakamatsu's chest and yawning.

"Your ear is cold," Wakamatsu mutters, but a few seconds later he drapes an arm around Aomine and absently rubs the small of his back.


End file.
